V 


LIDKAKT 

UNUVERSiTY  OP 
CALtfORNIA 
SAN  DIE©0 


/et^ 


THE 


POETICAL  WORKS 


OP 


THOMAS     M  O  O  E  E, 


COLLECTED    BY    HIMSELF. 


IN      SIX      VOLUMES. 


■WITH      A      MEMOIR. 


VOL.    II. 


BOSTON: 

LITTLE,    BROWN    AND    C  0  51  P  A  N  Y . 

SHEPARD,    CLARK    AND    CO. 

CLNCINKATI:    JIOOKE,   WILSTACH,   KEYS  A>TJ    CO. 

M.DCCC.LVI. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  tlie  year  1856,  by 

LITTLE,  BROWN    AND  COMPANY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Maspachusetts 


C  A  M  li  U  I  I)  G  K  : 

PRINTED    BY    ALLEN     AND    F  A  R  N  U  A  >t 


CONTENTS 


OF    THE    SECOND    VOLUME. 


Page 
Preface  to  the  Second  Volume         .  .  1 

Poems  Kelating  to  America           ...  17 

Preface  to  Satirical  Pieces,  etc.      .           .  H' 

Corruption,  and  Intolerance         .           .           .  127 

The  Sceptic,  a  Philosophical  Satire           .  •      151 

Twopenny  Post-Bag    .....  165 

Satirical  and  Humorous  Poems          .           .  .      217 

Political  and  Satirical  Poems      .           .           •  261 

The  Fudge  Family  in  Paris      ....  273 

Fables  for  the  Holy  Alliance      .           .           .  373 

[A  more  particular  Index  will  be  found  at  the  end  of  the 

Fifth  Volume.] 

(iii) 


PREFACE 

TO   THE    SECOXD   VOLUME. 


The  Poems  suggested  to  me  by  ray  visit  to  Ber- 
muda, in  the  year  1803,  as  well  as  by  the  tour  whicli 
I  made  subsequently,  tlu'ough  some  parts  of  North 
America,  have  been  hitherto  very  injudiciously  ar- 
ranged ;  —  any  distinctive  character  they  may  pos- 
sess having  been  disturbed  and  confused  by  their 
being  mixed  up  not  only  with  trifles  of  a  much  ear- 
lier date,  but  also  with  some  portions  of  a  classical 
story,  in  the  form  of  Letters,  which  I  had  made  some 
progress  in  before  my  departure  from  England.  In 
the  present  edition,  this  awkward  jumble  has  been 
remedied ;  and  all  the  Poems  relating  to  my  trans- 
atlantic voyage  will  be  found  classed  by  themselves. 
As,  in  like  manner,  the  line  of  route  by  which  I  pro- 
ceeded through  some  parts  of  the  States  and  the 
Canadas,  has  been  left  hitherto  to  be  traced  con- 
fusedly through  a  few  detached  notes,  I  have  thought 
that,  to  future  readers  of  these  poems,  some  clearer 
account  of  the  course  of  that  journey  might  not  be 

VOL.  II.  1 


2  PREFACE    TO 

unacceptable,  —  together  with  such  vestiges  as  may 
still  linger  in  my  memory  of  events  now  fust  fading 
into  the  background  of  time. 

For  the  precise  date  of  my  dejiarture  from  Eng- 
land, in  the  Plueton  frigate,  I  am  indebted  to  the 
Naval  Recollections  of  Captain  Scott,  then  a  mid- 
shipman of  that  ship.  "  We  were  soon  ready,"  says 
this  gentleman,  "  for  sea,  and  a  few  days  saw  Mr. 
Merry  and  suite  embarked  on  board.  Mr.  Moore 
likewise  took  his  jiassage  with  us  on  his  way  to 
Bermuda.  AVe  (piitted  Spithead  on  the  25th  of  Sep- 
tember (1803),  and  in  a  short  week  lay  becalmed 
under  the  lofty  peak  of  Pico.  In  this  situation,  the 
Phaeton  is  depicted  in  the  frontispiece  of  Moore's 
Poems." 

During  the  voyage,  I  dined  very  frequently  with 
the  ollicers  of  the  gun-room  ;  and  it  was  not  a  little 
gratifying  to  me  to  learn,  from  this  gentleman's  vol- 
ume, that  the  cordial  regard  these  social  and  open- 
hearted  men  inspired  in  me  was  not  wholly  unre- 
turned,  on  their  part.  After  mentioning  our  arri- 
val at  Norfolk,  in  Virginia,  Captain  Scott  says,  "  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Merry  left  the  Phaeton,  under  the  usual 
salute,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Moore;"  —  then,  adding 
some  kind  compliments  on  the  score  of  talents,  etc., 
he  concludes  with  a  sentence  which  it  gave  me  ten- 
fold more  pleasure  to  I'ead,  —  "  The  gun-room  mess 
witnessed  the  day  of  his  departure  with  genuine 
sorrow."  From  Norfolk,  after  a  stay  of  about  ten 
days,  under  the  lios])itable  roof  of  the  liritish  Consul, 


THE    SECOND    VOLUME.  3 

Colonel  Hamilton,  I  jiroceeded,  iu  tlie  Driver  sloop 
of  war,  to  Bermuda. 

There  was  then  on  that  station  another  youthful 
sailor,  who  has  since  earned  for  himself  a  distin- 
guished name  among  English  writers  of  travels, 
Captain  Basil  Plall,  —  then  a  midshipman  on  board 
the  Leander.  In  his  Fragments  of  Voyages  and 
Travels,  this  writer  has  called  up  some  agreeable 
reminiscences  of  that  period  ;  in  perusing  which,  — 
so  full  of  life  and  reality  are  his  sketches,  —  I  found 
all  my  own  naval  recollections  brought  freshly  to  my 
mind.  The  very  names  of  the  different  ships,  then 
so  familiar  to  my  ears,  —  the  Leander,  the  Boston, 
the  Cambrian,  —  transported^me  back  to  the  season 
of  youth  and  those  Summer  Isles  once  more. 

The  testimony  borne  by  so  competent  a  witness 
as  Captain  Hall  to  the  truth  of  my  sketches  of  the 
beautiful  scenery  of  Bermuda  is  of  far  too  much  value 
to  me,  in  my  capacity  of  traveller,  to  be  here  omitted 
by  me,  however  conscious  I  must  feel  of  but  ill  de- 
sei'ving  the  praise  he  lavishes  on  me,  as  a  poet. 
Xot  that  I  pretend  to  be  at  all  indifferent  to  such 
kind  tributes  ;  —  on  the  contrary,  those  are  always 
the  most  alive  to  praise,  who  feel  inwardly  least  confi- 
dence in  the  soundness  of  their  own  title  to  it.  In 
the  present  instance,  however,  my  vanity  (for  so 
this  uneasy  feeling  is  always  called)  seeks  its  food  in 
a  different  direction.  It  is  not  as  a  poet  I  invoke 
the  aid  of  Captain  Hall's  opinion,  but  as  a  traveller 


4  PREFACE    TO 

and  observer ;  it  is  not  to  my  invention  I  ask  him  to 
bear  testimony,  but  to  my  matter-of-fact. 

"  The  most  pleasing  and  most  exact  description 
which  I  know  of  Px'i-niudn,"  says  this  gentk'man, 
"is  to  be  fonnd  in  Moore's  Odes  and  Epistles,  a 
work  published  many  years  ago.  The  reason  why 
his  account  excels  in  beauty  as  well  as  in  precision 
that  of  other  men  probably  is,  that  the  scenes 
described  lie  so  much  beyond  the  scope  of  ordhiary 
observation  in  colder  climates,  and  the  feelings 
which  they  excite  in  the  beholder  are  so  nuich 
higher  than  those  produced  by  the  scenery  Ave  have 
been  accustomed  to  look  at,  that,  unless  the  imagina- 
tion be  deeply  drawn  upon,  and  the  diction  sus- 
tained at  a  correspondent  pitch,  the  words  alone 
strike  the  ear,  while  the  listener's  fancy  remains 
where  it  was.  In  Moore's  account  there  is  not 
only  no  exaggeration,  but,  on  the  contrary,  a  won- 
derful degree  of  temperance  in  the  midst  of  a  feast 
which,  to  his  rich  fancy,  must  have  been  peculiarly 
tempting.  He  has  contrived,  by  a  magic  peculiarly 
his  own,  yet  without  departing  from  the  truth,  to 
sketch  what  was  before  him  with  a  fervour  which 
those  who  have  never  been  on  the  spot  might  well 
be  excused  for  setting  down  as  the  sport  of  the  poet's 
invention."  * 

How  truly  politic  it  is  in  a  poet  to  connect  his 

•  Fragments  of  Voyages  and  Travels,  vol.  ii.  chaj).  vi. 


THE    SECOND    VOLUME.  O 

verse  with  well  known  and  interesting  localities, — 
to  wed  his  song  to  scenes  already  invested  with 
fame,  and  thus  lend  it  a  chance  of  sharing  the  charm 
which  encircles  them, —  I  have  myself,  in  more  than 
one  instance,  very  agreeably  experienced.  Among 
the  memorials  of  this  description,  which,  as  I  learn 
with  pleasure  and  pride,  still  keep  me  remembered 
in  some  of  those  beautiful  regions  of  the  West  which 
I  visited,  I  shall  mention  but  one  slight  instance, 
as  showing  how  potently  the  Genius  of  the  Place 
may  lend  to  song  a  life  and  imperishableness  to  which, 
in  itself,  it  boasts  no  claim  or  pretension.  The  fol- 
lowing lines,  in  one  of  my  Bermudian  Poems, 

'Twas  there,  in  the  shade  of  the  Calabash  Tree, 
With  a  few  who  could  feel  and  remember  like  me, 

still  live  in  memory,  I  am  told,  on  those  fairy 
shores,  connecting  my  name  with  the  picturesque 
spot  they  describe,  and  the  noble  old  tree  which  I 
believe  still  adorns  it.*  One  of  the  few  treasures 
(of  any  kind)  I  possess,  is  a  goblet  formed  of  one 
of  the  fruit-shells  of  this  remarkable  tree,  which 
was  brought  from  Bermuda,  a  few  years  since,  by 
Mr.  Dudley  Costello,  and  which  that  gentleman, 
having  had  it  tastefully  mounted  as  a  goblet,  very 
kindly  presented  to  me ;  the  following  words  being 
part    of    the    inscription    which    it    bears :  — "  To 

*  A  representation  of  this  calabash,  taken  from  a  drawing  of  it 
made,  on  the  sjiot,  by  Dr.  Savage  of  the  Royal  Artillery,  has 
been  introduced  in  the  vignette  prefixed  to  this  volume. 


6  PREFACE   TO 

Thomas  Moore,  Esq.,  this  cup,  formed  of  a  cala- 
bash which  grew  on  the  tree  that  bears  his  name, 
near  Walsingham,  Bermuda,  is  inscribed  by  one 
who,"  etc.  etc. 

From  Bermuda  I  proceeded  in  the  Boston,  with 
my  friend  Captain  (now  Admiral)  J.  E.  Doughis, 
to  New  York,  from  whence,  after  a  short  stay,  we 
sailed  for  Norfolk,  in  Virginia;  and  about  the  be- 
ginning of  June,  1804,  I  set  out  from  that  city  on  a 
tour  through  part  of  the  States.  At  Washington, 
I  passed  some  days  with  the  English  minister,  Mr. 
Merry ;  and  was,  by  him,  presented  at  tlie  levee  of 
the  President,  Jefferson,  whom  I  found  sitting  with 
General  Dearborn  and  one  or  two  other  oincers, 
and  in  the  same  homely  costume,  comprising  slip- 
pers and  Connemara  stockings,  in  which  Mr.  Merry 
had  been  received  by  him  —  much  to  that  formal 
minister's  horror  —  when  waiting  npon  him,  in  full 
dress,  to  deliver  his  credentials.  My  single  interview 
with  this  remarkable  person  was  of  very  short  dura- 
tion ;  but  to  have  seen  and*spoken  Avith  the  man  who 
drew  up  the  Declaration  of  American  Independence 
was  an  event  not  to  be  forgotten. 

At  Philadelphia,  the  society  I  was  chiefly  made 
acquainted  with,  and  to  which  (as  the  verses  ad- 
dressed to  "Delaware's  green  banks"*  sulficiently 
testify)  I  was  indebted  for  some  of  my  most  agree- 
able recollections  of  the  United  States,  consisted 
entirely  of  persons  of  the  Federalist  or  Anti-Demo- 

•  See  Epistle  to  Mr.  W.  R.  Spencer,  p.  94.  of  this  volume. 


THE    SECOND    VOLUME.  7 

cratic  party.  Few  and  transient,  too,  as  had  been 
my  opportunities,  of  judging  for  myself  of  the  pohti- 
cal  or  social  state  of  the  country,  my  mind  was  left 
open  too  much  to  the  influence  of  the  feelings  and 
prejudices  of  those  I  chiefly  consorted  with ;  and, 
certainly,  in  no  quarter  Avas  I  so  sure  to  find  de- 
cided hostility,  both  to  the  men  and  the  principles 
then  dominant  throughout  the  Union,  as  among 
officers  of  the  British  navy,  and  in  the  ranks  of  an 
angry  Federalist  opposition.  For  any  bias,  tliere- 
fore,  that,  under  such  circumstances,  my  opinions 
and  feelings  may  be  thought  to  have  received,  full 
allowance,  of  course,  is  to  be  made  in  appraising 
the  weight  due  to  my  authority  on  the  subject.  All 
I  can  answer  for,  is  the  perfect  sincerity  and  ear- 
nestness of  the  actual  impressions,  whether  true  or 
erroneous,  under  which  my  Epistles  from  the  United 
States  were  written.;  and  so  sti-ong,  at  the  time,  I 
confess,  were  those  impressions,  that  it  was  the  only 
period  of  my  past  life  during  which  I  have  found 
myself  at  all  sceptical  as  to  the  soundness  of  that 
Liberal  creed  of  politics,  in  the  profession  and  ad- 
vocacy of  which  I  may  be  almost  literally  said  to 
have  begun  life,  and  shall  most  probably  end  it. 

Reaching,  for  the  second  time,  New  York,  I  set 
out  from  thence  on  the  now  fomiliar  and  easy  enter- 
prise of  visiting  the  Falls  of  Niagara.  It  is  but  too 
true,  of  all  grand  objects,  whether  in  nature  or  art, 
that  facility  of  access  to  them  much  diminishes  the 
feeling  of  reverence  thev  oui;:;ht  to  inspire.     Of  this 


8  PREFACE    TO 

fault,  however,  the  route  to  Niagara,  at  that  period  — 
at  least  the  portion  of  it  which  led  through  the 
Genesee  country  —  could  not  justly  be  accused. 
The  latter  part  of  the  journey,  which  lay  cliietiy 
through  yet  but  half-cleared  wood,  we  were  obliged 
to  perform  on  foot ;  and  a  slight  accident  I  met  with, 
in  the  course  of  our  rugged  walk,  laid  me  up  for 
some  days  at  Buffalo.  To  the  rapid  gi-owth,  in  that 
Avonderful  region,  of,  at  least,  the  materials  of  civili- 
zation,—  however  ultimately  they  may  be  turned 
to  account,  —  this  flourishing  town,  which  stands  on 
Lake  Erie,  bears  most  ample  testimony.  Though 
little  better,  at  the  time  when  I  visited  it,  tlian  a 
mere  village,  consisting  chiefly  of  huts  and  wigwams, 
it  is  now,  by  all  accounts,  a  populous  and  splendid 
city,  with  five  or  six  churches,  town-hall,  theatre, 
and  other  such  a^ipurtenances  of  a  ca{)ital. 

In  adverting  to  the  comparatively  rude  state  of 
Buffalo  at  that  period,  I  should  be  ungrateful  were 
I  to  omit  mentioning,  that,  even  then,  on  the  shores 
of  those  far  lakes,  the  title  of  "Poet,"  —  however 
unworthily  in  that  instance  bestowed,  —  bespoke  a 
kind  and  distinguishing  welcome  for  its  wearer; 
and  that  the  Captain  who  commanded  the  packet 
in  whicli  I  crossed  Lake  Ontario,*  in  addition  to 
other  marks  of  courtesy,  begged,  on  ]>arting  with 
me,  to  be  allowed  to  decline  payment  for  my  pas- 


sage. 


*  The  Commodore  of  the  Lakes,  as  he  is  styled. 


THE    SECOND    VOLUilE.  iJ 

"When  we  arrived,  at  length,  at  the  inn,  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Falls,  it  was  too  late  to  think  of 
visiting  them  that  evening  ;  and  I  lay  awake  almost 
the  whole  night  with  the  sound  of  the  cataract  in  my 
ears.  The  day  following  I  consider  as  a  sort  of  era 
in  my  life  ;  and  the  first  glimpse  I  caught  of  that 
wonderful  cataract  gave  me  a  feeling  which  nothing 
in  this  world  can  ever  awaken  again.*  It  was 
through  an  oj^ening  among  the  trees,  as  we  ap- 
proached the  spot  where  the  full  view  of  the  Falls 
was  to  burst  upon  us,  that  I  caught  this  glimpse  of 
the  mighty  mass  of  waters  folding  smoothly  over  the 
edge  of  the  precipice ;  and  so  overwhelming  was 
the  notion  it  gave  me  of  the  awful  spectacle  I  was 
approaching,  that,  during  the  short  interval  that 
followed,  imagination  had  far  outrun  the  reality ; 
and,  vast  and  wonderful  as  was  the  scene  that  then 
opened  upon  me,  my  first  feeling  was  that  of  disap- 
pointment. It  would  have  been  impossible,  indeed, 
for  any  thing  real  to  come  up  to  the  vision  I  had,  in 
these  few  seconds,  formed  of  it ;  and  those  awful 
scriptural  words^  "  The  fountains  of  the  great  deep 
were  broken  up,"  can  alone  give  any  notion  of  the 
vague  wonders  for  which  I  was  prepared. 

But  in  spite  of  the  start  thus  got  by  imagination, 
the  triumph  of  reality  Avas,  in  the  end,  but  the 
gi'eater ;   for   the   gradual  glory  of  the    scene    that 

*  The  fir?t  two  sentences  of  the  above  p'.iragi-aph,  as  well  as 
a  passage  that  occurs  on  the  following  page,  stood  originally  as 
part  of  the  Notes  on  one  of  the  American  Poems. 


10  PREFACE    TO 

opened  upon  me  soon  took  possession  of  my  whole 
miiul ;  presentinj;,  from  day  to  day,  some  new  beauty 
or  wonder,  and,  like  all  that  is  most  sublime  in  nature 
or  art,  awakenintr  sad  as  well  as  elevatinjic  tliou";lits. 
I  retain  in  my  memory  but  one  other  dream  — 
for  such  do  events  so  long  past  appear —  which  can 
in  any  respect  be  associated  with  the  grand  vision  I 
have  just  been  describing ;  and,  however  different 
the  nature  of  their  appeals  to  the  imagination,  I 
should  lind  it  dilhcult  to  say  on  which  occasion  I  felt 
most  deeply  affected,  when  looking  on  the  Falls  of 
Niagara,  or  when  standing  by  moonlight  among  the 
ruins  of  the  Coliseum. 

Some  changes,  I  understand,  injurious  to  the  beauty 
of  the  scene,  have  taken  place  in  the  shape  of  the 
Falls  since  the  time  of  my  visit  to  them;  and  among 
these  is  the  total  disappearance,  by  the  gradual 
cruml)ling  away  of  the  rock,  of  the  small  leafy  island 
which  then  stood  near  the  edge  of  the  Great  Fall, 
and  whose  tranquillity  and  unapproachableness,  in 
the  midst  of  so  much  turmoil,  lent  it  an  interest 
which  I  thus  tried  to  avail  myself  of,  in  a  Song  of 
the  Spirit  of  that  region  :  —  * 

There,  amid  the  island-sedge, 
Just  above  the  cutaruct's  edge, 
Where  the  foot  of  living  man 
Never  trod  since  time  began, 
Lone  I  sit  at  close  of  day,  etc.  etc. 

*  Introduced  in  the  Epistle  to  Lady  Charlotte  Rawdon,  p.  101. 
of  this  volume. 


THE    SECOND    VOLUME.  11 

Another  characteristic  feature  of  the  vicinity  of 
the  Falls,  -which,  I  understand,  no  longer  exists,  was 
the  intcrestinjr  settlement  of  the  Tuscarora  Indians. 
With  the  gallant  Brock,*  who  then  commanded  at 
Fort  George,  I  passed  the  greater  pai't  of  my  time 
during  the  few  weeks  I  remained  at  Niagara ;  and  a 
visit  I  paid  to  these  Indians,  in  company  with  him 
and  his  brother  officers,  on  his  going  to  distribute 
among  them  the  customary  presents  and  prizes,  was 
not  the  least  curious  of  the  many  new  scenes  I  wit- 
nessed. These  people  received  us  in  all  their  an- 
cient costume.  The  young  men  exhibited  for  our 
amusement  in  the  race,  the  bat-game,  and  other 
sports,  while  the  old  and  the  women  sat  in  groups 
under  the  surrounding  trees ;  and  the  whole  scene 
was  as  picturesque  and  beautiful  as  it  was  ncAv  to 
me.  It  is  said  that  West,  the  American  painter, 
when  he  first  saw  the  Apollo,  at  Eome,  exclaimed 
instantly,  "  A  young  Indian  warrior  !  "  —  and,  how- 
ever startling  the  association  may  appear,  some  of 
the  graceful  and  agile  forms  which  I  saw  that  day 
among  the  Tuscaroras  were  such  as  would  account 
for  its  arising  in  the  young  painter's  mind. 

After  crossing  "the  fresh-water  ocean"  of  Ontario, 


*  This  brave  and  amiable  officer  was  killed  at  Queenston, 
in  Upper  Canada,  soon  after  the  commencement  of  the  war  with 
America',  in  the  year  1812.  He  was  in  the  act  of  cheering 
on  his  men  when  he  fell.  The  inscription  on  the  monnment 
raised  to  his  memory,  on  Queenston  Heights,  does  but  due  hon- 
our to  his  manly  character. 


12  PREFACE    TO 

I  passed  down  the  St.  Lawrence  to  Montreal  and 
Quebec,  staying  for  a  short  tune  at  each  of  these 
places  ;  and  this  jiurt  of  my  journey,  as  well  as  my 
voyage  on  from  Quebec  to  Halifax,  is  suilieiently 
traceable  through  the  few  pieces  of  poetry  that  were 
suggested  to  me  by  scenes  and  events  on  the  way. 
And  here  I  must  again  venture  to  avail  myself  of  the 
valuable  testimony  of  Captain  Hall  to  tlie  truth  of 
my  descriptions  of  some  of  those  scenes  through 
Avliich  his  more  practised  eye  followed  me;  —  taking 
the  liberty  to  omit  in  my  extracts,  as  far  as  may  be 
done  without  injury  to  the  style  or  context,  some  of 
that  generous  surplusage  of  praise  in  which  friendly 
criticism  delights  to  indulge. 

In  speaking  of  an  excursion  he  had  made  up  the 
river  Ottawa,  —  "  a  stream,"  he  adds,  "  which  has  a 
classical  ])lace  in  every  one's  imagiuation  from 
Moore's  Canadian  Boat  Song,"  Ca})tain  Hall  pro- 
ceeds as  follows  :  "  "While  the  poet  above  alluded 
to  has  retained  all  that  is  essentially  characteristic 
and  pleasing  in  these  boat  songs,  and  rejected  all  that 
is  not  so,  he  has  contrived  to  borrow  his  inspiration 
from  numei'ons  snrronnding  circumstances,  present- 
ing nothing  remarkable  to  the  dull  senses  of  ordinary 
travellers.  Yet  these  highly  poetical  images,  drawn 
in  this  way,  as  it  were  carelessly  and  from  every 
hand,  he  has  combined  with  such  graphic  —  I  had 
almost  said  geogra])hical  —  truth,  that  the  effect  is 
great  even  upon  those  who  have  never,  with  their 
own  eyes,  seen  the  '  Utawa's  tide,'  nor  '  flown  down 


THE    SECOND    VOLUME.  13 

the  Eapids,'  nor  heard  the  '  bell  of  St.  Anne's  toll  its 
evening  chime  ; '  while  the  same  lines  give  to  dis- 
tant regions,  previously  consecrated  in  our  imagina- 
tion, a  vividness  of  interest,  when  viewed  on  the 
spot,  of  which  it  is  difficult  to  say  how  much  is  due 
to  the  magic  of  the  poetry,  and  how  much  to  the 
beauty  of  the  real  scene."  * 

While  on  the  subject  of  the  Canadian  Boat  Song, 
an  anecdote  connected  with  that  once  popular  ballad 
may,  for  my  musical  readers  at  least,  possess  some 
interest.  A  few  years  since,  while  staying  in  Dublin, 
I  was  presented,  at  his  own  request,  to  a  gentleman 
who  told  me  that  his  family  had  in  their  possession 
a  curious  relic  of  my  youthful  days,  —  being  the  first 
notation  I  had  made,  in  pencilHng,  of  the  air  and 
words  of  the  Canadian  Boat  Song,  while  on  my  way 
down  the  St.  Lawrence,  —  and  that  it  was  their  wish 
I  should  add  my  signature  to  attest  the  authenticity 
of  the  autograph.  I  assured  him  with  truth  that  I 
had  wholly  forgotten  even  the  existence  of  such  a 
memorandum  ;  that  it  would  be  as  much  a  curiosity 
to  myself  as  it  could  be  to  any  one  else,  and  that  I 
should  feel  thankful  to  be  allowed  to  see  it.     In  a 


»  "  It  is  singularly  gratifying,"  the  author  adds,  "  to  discover 
that,  to  this  hour,  the  Canadian  voyageurs  never  omit  their  otl'er- 
ings  to  the  shrine  of  St.  Anne,  before  engaging  in  any  enterprise; 
and  that,  during  its  perfoi-niance,  they  omit  no  opportunity  of 
keeping  up  so  propitious  an  intercourse.  The  flourishing  village 
■which  surrounds  the  church  on  the  '  Green  Isle '  in  question,  owes 
its  existence  and  support  entirely  to  these  pious  contributions." 


14 


PREFACE    TO 


day  or  two  after,  my  request  was  complied  witli,  and 
the  following  is  the  history  of  this  musical  "  relic." 

In  my  passage  down  the  St.  Lawrence,  I  had  with 
me  two  travelling  conipaniuns,  one  of  whom,  named 
Harkness,  the  son  of  a  wealthy  Dublin  merchant, 
has  been  some  years  dead.  To  this  young  friend,  on 
parting  with  him,  at  Quebec,  I  gave,  as  a  keepsake, 
a  volume  I  had  been  reading  on  the  way,  —  Priest- 
ley's Lectures  on  History ;  and  it  was  upon  a  fly- 
leaf of  this  volume  I  found  I  had  taken  down,  in 
pencilling,  both  the  notes  and  a  few  of  the  words  of 
the  original  song  by  which  my  own  boat-glee  had 
been  suggested.  The  following  is  the  form  of  my 
memorandum  of  the  original  air  :  — 


.P^ 


tij+iV: 


ESiE: 


^0-^-0-0- 


£?3 


Then  follows,  as  pencilled  down  at  the  same  mo- 
ment, the  first  verse  of  my  Canadian  ]5oat  Song,  with 
air  and  words  as  they  are  at  present.  From  all 
this  it  will  be  perceived,  that,  in  my  own  setting  of 
the  air,  I  de[)arted  in  almost  every  respect  but  the 
time  from  the  strain  our  voyageurs  had  sung  to  us, 
leaving  the  music  of  the  glee  nearly  as  much  my 
own  as  the  words.  Yet,  how  strongly  impressed  I 
had  become  with  the  notion  that  this  Avas  the  iden- 


THE    SECOND    VOLUME.  15 

tical  air  sung  by  the  boatmen,  —  how  closely  it  linked 
itself  in  my  imagination  with  the  scenes  and  sounds 
amidst  which  it  had  occurred  to  me,  —  may  be  seen 
by  reference  to  a  note  appended  to  the  glee  as  first 
publislied,  which  will  be  found  in  the  following 
pages.* 

To  the  few  desultory  and,  perhaps,  valueless  rec- 
ollections I  have  thus  called  up,  respecting  the  con- 
tents of  our  second  volume,  I  have  only  to  add,  that 
the  heavy  storm  of  censure  and  criticism,  —  some  of 
it,  I  fear,  but  too  well  deserved, —  which,  both  in 
America  and  in  England,  the  publication  of  my 
"  Odes  and  Epistles  "  drew  down  upon  me,  was  fol- 
lowed by  results  which  have  far  more  than  compen- 
sated for  any  pain  such  attacks  at  the  time  may 
have  inflicted.  In  the  most  formidable  of  all  my 
censors,  at  that  period,  —  the  great  master  of  the 
art  of  criticism,  in  our  day,  —  I  have  found  ever 
since  one  of  the  most  cordial  and  highly  valued  of 
all  my  friends ;  while  the  good-will  I  have  expe- 
rienced from  more  than  one  distinguished  Amer- 
ican sufficiently  assures  me  that  any  injustice  I  may 
have  done  to  that  land  of  freemen,  if  not  long  since 
wholly  forgotten,  is  now  remembered  only  to  be 
forgiven. 

As  some  consolation  to  me  for  the  onsets  of  crit- 
icism, I  received,  shortly  after  the  appearance  of  my 
volume,  a  letter  from  Stockholm,  addressed  to  "  the 

*  Page  100.  of  this  volume. 


16     PREFACE  TO  THE  SECOND  VOLUME. 

author  of  Epistles,  Odes,  and  other  Poems,"  and 
informing  me  that  "  the  Princes,  Nobles,  and  Gentle- 
men, who  composed  the  General  Chapter  of  the 
most  Illustrious,  Equestrian,  Secular,  and  Chapteral 
Order  of  St.  Joachim,"  had  elected  me  as  a  Knitrht 
of  this  Order.  Notwithstanding  the  grave  and  olli- 
cial  style  of  the  letter,  I  regarded  it,  I  own,  at  first, 
as  a  mere  ponderous  j^iece  of  pleasantry  ;  and  even 
suspected  that  in  tiie  name  of  St.  "  Joachim  "  I  could 
detect  the  low  and  irreverent  pun  of  St.  Jokehim. 

On  a  little  inquiry,  however,  I  learned  that  there 
actually  existed  such  an  order  of  knighthood ;  that 
the  title,  insignia,  etc.  conferred  by  it  had,  in  the 
instances  of  Lord  Nelson,  the  Duke  of  Bouillon,  and 
Colonel  Imhoff,  who  were  all  Knights  of  St.  Joachim, 
been  authorized  by  the  British  court ;  but  that  since 
then,  this  sanction  of  the  order  had  been  -withdi'awn. 
Of  course,  to  the  reduction  thus  caused  in  the  value 
of  the  honour  was  owing  its  descent  in  the  scale  of 
distinction  to  "  such  small  deer"  of  Parnassus  as  my- 
self. I  wrote  a  letter,  however,  full  of  grateful  ac- 
knowledgment, to  Monsieur  ITansson,  the  Yice- 
Chancellor  of  the  Order,  saying  that  I  was  uncon- 
scious of  having  entitled  myself,  by  any  public  ser- 
vice, to  a  reward  due  only  to  the  benefactors  of  man- 
kind ;  and  therefore  begged  leave  most  respectfully 
to  decline  it. 


POEMS 

RELATING   TO   AMERICA. 


VOL.  ir. 


TO 


FRANCIS,   EARL   OF  MOIRA, 

GEXERAL     IN     HIS    MAJESTT's    FORCES,     MASTER-GEXERAL 
OF    THE    ORDNANCE,    CONSTABLE    OF    THE    TOWER,    ETC. 

My  Lord, 

It  is  impossible  to  think  of  addressing  a  Dedica- 
tion to  your  Lordship  without  calHng  to  mind  the 
■\vell-known  reply  of  the  Spartan  to  a  rhetorician,  who 
proposed  to  pronounce  an  eulogium  on  Hercules. 
"  On  Hercules  ! "  said  the  honest  Spartan,  "  who 
ever  thought  of  blaming  Hercules  ?  "  In  a  similar 
manner  the  concurrence  of  public  opinion  has  left  to 
the  panegyrist  of  your  Lordship  a  very  superfluous 
task.  I  shall,  therefore,  be  silent  on  the  subject, 
and  merely  entreat  your  indulgence  to  the  very 
humble  tribute  of  gratitude  which  I  have  here  the 
honour  to  present. 
I  am,  my  Lord, 

With  every  feeling  of  attachment 
and  respect, 
Your  Lordship's  very  devoted  Servant, 

THOMAS   MOOEE. 

27  Bury  Street,  St.  James's, 
April  10,  1806. 


PREFACE.* 


The  principal  poems  in  the  following  collection 
were  written  during  an  absence  of  fourteen  months 
from  Eui'ope.  Though  curiosity  was  certainly  not 
the  motive  of  my  voyage  to  America,  yet  it  hap- 
pened that  the  gratification  of  curiosity  was  the 
only  advantage  which  I  dei'ived  from  it.  Finding 
myself  in  the  country  of  a  new  people,  whose  in- 
fancy had  pi'omised  so  much,  and  whose  progress 
to  maturity  has  been  an  object  of  such  interesting 
speculation,  I  determined  to  employ  the  short  period 
of  time,  which  my  plan  of  return  to  Europe  af- 
forded me,  in  travelling  through  a  few  of  the  States, 
and  acquiring  some  knowledge  of  the  inhabitants. 

The  impression  which  my  mind  received  from 
the  character  and  manners  of  these  republicans, 
suggested  the  Epistles  which  are  written  from  the 
city  of  Washington  and   Lake  Erie.f     How  far  I 

*  This  Preface,  as  well  as  the  Dedication  which  precedes  it, 
were  prefixed  originally  to  the  miscellaneous  volume  entitled 
"  Odes  and  Epistles,"  of  which,  hitherto,  the  poems  relating  to 
my  American  tour  have  formed  a  part. 

t  Epistles  VI.  Vn.  and  VUI. 


22  rOEMS    RELATING    TO    A^IERICA. 

was  right,  in  thus  assuming  the  tone  of  a  satirist 
against  a  people  whom  I  viewed  but  as  a  stranger 
and  a  visitor,  is  a  dou1)t  which  my  feelings  did  not 
allow  me  time  to  investigate.  All  I  presume  to 
answer  for  is  the  fidelity  of  the  picture  which  I 
have  given  ;  and  though  prudence  might  have  dic- 
tated gentler  language,  truth,  I  think,  would  have 
justified  severer. 

I  weijt  to  America  with  prepossessions  by  no 
means  unfavourable,  and  indeed  rather  indulo'ed 
in  many  of  those  illusive  ideas,  with  respect  to  the 
purity  of  the  government  and  the  primitive  happiness 
of  the  people,  which  I  had  early  imbibed  in  my 
native  country,  where,  unfortunately,  discontent  at 
home  enhances  every  distant  temptation,  and  tlie 
western  world  has  long  been  looked  to  as  a  retreat 
from  real  or  imaginary  oppression ;  as,  in  short,  the 
elysian  Atlantis,  where  persecuted  patriots  might 
find  their  visions  realized,  and  be  welcomed  by 
kindred  spirits  to  liberty  and  repose.  In  all  these 
flattering  expectations  I  found  myself  completely 
disappointed,  and  felt  inclined  to  say  to  America, 
as  Horace  says  to  his  mistress,  "  intentata  nites." 
Brissot,  in  the  preface  to  his  travels,  observes,  that 
"freedom  in  that  country  is  carried  to  so  high  a 
degree  as  to  border  upon  a  state  of  nature ; "  and 
there  certainly  is  a  close  approximation  to  savage 
life,  not  only  in  the  liberty  which  they  enjoy,  but 
in  the  violence  of  party  spirit  and  of  private  ani- 
mosity which  results  from  it.     This  iUiberal  zeal 


PREFACE.  23 

imbittei's  all  social  intercourse  ;  and,  though  I 
scarcely  could  hesitate  in  selecting  the  party,  whose 
views  appeared  to  me  the  more  pure  and  rational, 
yet  I  was  sorry  to  observe  that,  in  asserting  their 
opinions,  they  both  assume  an  equal  share  of  intol- 
erance ;  the  Democrats,  consistently  with  their  jjrin- 
ciples,  exhibiting  a  vulgarity  of  rancour,  wliich  the 
Federalists  too  often  ai-e  so  forgetful  of  their  cause 
as  to  imitate. 

The  rude  familiarity  of  the  lower  orders,  and  in- 
deed the  unpolished  state  of  society  in  general,  would 
neither  surprise  nor  disgust  if  they  seemed  to  i\ow 
from  that  simplicity  of  character,  that  honest  igno- 
rance of  the  gloss  of  refinement  which  may  be  looked 
for  in  a  new  and  inexperienced  people.  But,  when 
we  find  them  arrived  at  maturity  in  most  of  the 
vices,  and  all  the  pride  of  civilization,  while  they  are 
still  so  far  removed  from  its  higher  and  better  char- 
acteristics, it  is  impossible  not  to  feel  that  this  youth- 
ful decay,  this  crude  anticipation  of  the  natural  pe- 
riod of  corruption,  must  repress  every  sanguine  hope 
of  the  future  energy  and  greatness  of  America. 

I  am  conscious  that,  in  venturing  these  few  re- 
marks, I  have  said  just  enough  to  offend,  and  by  no 
means  sufficient  to  convince  ;  for  the  limits  of  a  pre- 
face prevent  me  from  entering  into  a  justification  of 
my  opinions,  and  I  am  committed  on  the  subject  as 
effectually  as  if  I  had  written  volumes  in  their  de- 
fence. My  reader,  however,  is  apprised  of  the  very 
cursory  observation  upon  which  these  opinions  are 


24  POEMS    KELATING  TO   AMERICA. 

founded,  and  can  easily  decide  for  himself  upon  the 
degree  of  attention  or  confidence  which  they  merit. 

With  respect  to  tlie  poems  in  general,  which  oc- 
cupy the  following  pages,  I  know  not  in  what  man- 
ner to  apologize  to  the  public  for  intruding  upon  their 
notice  such  a  mass  of  unconnected  trifles,  such  a 
world  of  epicurean  atoms  as  I  have  here  brought  in 
conflict  together.*  To  say  that  I  have  been  tempted 
by  the  liberal  offers  of  my  bookseller,  is  an  excuse 
which  can  hope  for  but  little  indulgence  from  the 
critic ;  yet  I  own  that,  without  this  seasonable  in- 
ducement, these  poems  very  possibly  would  never 
have  been  submitted  to  the  world.  The  glare  of 
publication  is  too  strong  for  such  imperfect  produc- 
tions :  they  should  be  shown  but  to  the  (!ye  of  friend- 
ship, in  that  dim  light  of  privacy  which  is  as  favour- 
able to  poetical  as  to  female  beauty,  and  serves  as  a 
veil  for  faults,  while  it  enhances  every  charm  which 
it  displays.  Besides,  this  is  not  a  period  for  the  idle 
occupations  of  poetry,  and  times  like  the  present 
require  talents  more  active  and  more  useful.  Few 
have  now  the  leisure  to  read  such  trifles,  and  I  most 
sincerely  regret  that  I  have  had  the  leisure  to  write 
them. 

*  See  the  foregoing  Note,  p.  2J. 


POEMS. 


TO  LORD   VISCOUNT   STRANGFORD. 

ABOAKD   THE  PHAETON   FKIGATE,   OFF   THE  AZORES,   BY 
MOONLIGHT. 

Saveet  Moon  !  if,  like  Crotona's  sage,* 
By  any  spell  my  hand  could  dare 

To  make  thy  disk  its  ample  page, 

And  write  my  thoughts,  my  wishes  there  ; 

How  many  a  friend,  whose  careless  eye 

Now  wanders  o'er  that  starry  sky, 

Should  smile,  upon  thy  orb  to  meet 

The  recollection,  kind  and  sweet, 

The  reveries  of  fond  regret. 

The  promise,  never  to  forget, 

And  all  my  heart  and  soul  would  send 

To  many  a  dear-lov'd,  distant  friend. 

How  little,  when  we  parted  last, 
I  thought  those  pleasant  times  were  past, 
For  ever  past,  when  brilliant  joy 
"Was  all  my  vacant  heart's  employ : 

*  Pythagoras ;  who  was  supposed  to  hare  a  power  of  writing 
upon  the  Moon  by  the  means  of  a  magic  mirror.  —  See  Bayle, 
art.  Pythag. 


26  rOICMS    RELATIXG    TO    AMERICA. 

Wlicn,  fresh  from  mirth  to  mirth  awain, 

We  thought  the  mpul  hours  too  few ; 
Our  only  use  for  knowledge  then 

To  gather  bliss  from  all  we  knew. 
Delicious  days  of  whim  and  soul ! 

When,  mingling  lore  and  laugh  together, 
We  lean'd  the  book  on  Pleasure's  bowl, 

And  turn'd  the  leaf  with  Folly's  feather. 
Little  I  thought  that  all  were  fled, 
That,  ere  that  summer's  bloom  was  shed. 
My  eye  should  sec  the  sail  unfui-l'd 
That  wafts  me  to  the  "western  Avorld. 

And  yet,  'twas  time  ;  —  in  youth's  sweet  days, 
To  cool  that  season's  glowing  rays, 
The  heart  awhile,  with  wanton  wing, 
May  dip  and  dive  in  Pleasure's  spring ; 
But,  if  it  wait  for  winter's  breeze. 
The  spring  will  chill,  the  heart  -will  freeze. 
And  then,  that  Hope,  that  fairy  Hope,  — 

Oh  !  she  awak'd  such  happy  dreams, 
And  gave  my  soul  such  tempting  scope 

For  all  its  dearest,  fondest  schemes. 
That  not  Verona's  child  of  song. 

When  flying  from  the  Phrygian  shore, 
With  lighter  heart  could  bound  along, 

Or  pant  to  be  a  wanderer  more  !  * 

*  Allucling  to  these  atiiinatcd  lines   iu  the  44th   Carmen  of 
Catullus :  — 

Jam  mens  prretrepidans  avet  vagari, 
Jam  Ix'ti  studio  pedes  vigcscunt ! 


POEMS    RELATIXG    TO    AMERICA.  27 

Even  now  delusive  hope  will  steal 
Amid  the  dark  regrets  I  feel, 
Soothing,  as  yonder  placid  beam 

Pursues  the  murmurers  of  the  deep, 
And  lights  them  with  consoling  gleam, 

And  smiles  them  into  tranquil  sleep. 
Oh  !  such  a  blessed  night  as  this, 

I  often  think,  if  friends  were  near, 
How  we  sliould  feel,  and  gaze  with  bliss 

Upon  the  moon-bright  scenery  here ! 

The  sea  is  like  a  silvery  lake. 

And,  o'er  its  calm  the  vessel  glides 
Gently,  as  if  it  fear'd  to  wake 

The  slumber  of  the  silent  tides. 
The  only  envious  cloud  that  lowers 

Hath  hung  its  shade  on  Pico's  height,* 
Where  dimly,  mid  the  dusk,  he  towers. 

And  scowling  at  this  heav'n  of  light. 
Exults  to  see  the  infant  storm 
Cling  darkly  round  his  giant  form ! 

Now,  could  I  range  those  verdant  isles. 

Invisible,  at  this  soft  hour, 
And  see  the  looks,  the  beaming  smiles, 

That  brighten  many  an  orange  bower ; 


*  A  very  high  mountain  on  one  of  the  Azores,  from  -SN-hich  the 
island  derives  its  name.  It  is  said  by  some  to  be  as  high  as  the 
Peak  of  Teneriffe. 


28  POEMS    KELATING    TO    AMERICA. 

And  could  I  lift  each  pious  veil, 

And  8ce  the  bhisliing  cheek  it  sliades, — 

Oh  !  I  should  have  full  many  a  tale, 
To  tell  of  young  Azorian  maids. 

Yes,  Strangford,  at  this  hour,  perhaps. 

Some  lover  (not  too  idly  blest. 
Like  those,  who  in  their  ladies'  laps 

May  cradle  eveiy  Avish  to  rest,) 
Warbles,  to  touch  his  dear  one's  soul. 

Those  madrigals,  of  breath  divine, 
Which  Camoens'  harp  from  Rapture  stole 

And  gave,  all  glowing  warm,  to  thine.* 
Oh  ?  could  the  lover  learn  from  thee. 

And  breathe  them  with  thy  graceful  tone 
Such  sweet,  beguiling  minstrelsy 

Would  make  the  coldest  nymj)h  his  own. 

But,  hark  !  —  the  boatswain's  pipings  tell 
'T  is  time  to  bid  my  dream  farewell : 
Eight  bells  :  —  the  middle  watch  is  set ; 
Good  night,  my  Strangford  !  —  ne'er  forget 
That,  far  beyond  the  western  sea 
Is  one,  whose  heart  remembers  thee. 

*  These  islands  belong  to  the  Portuguese. 


POEMS    RELATING   TO    AMERICA.  29 


STANZAS. 


Qvfiog  de  ttot'  e/ioc  - 


•fte  npoacpuvEi  rade' 


TivuxjKe  TavdpuTTEta  fir)  aejSeiv  ayav. 

JEscHTL.  Fragintnt. 

A  BEAM  of  tranquillity  smil'd  in  the  west, 

The  storms  of  the  morning  pursued  us  no  more ; 

And  the  wave,  while  it  welcom'd  the  moment  of  rest, 
Still  heav'd,  as  remembering  ills  that  were  o'er. 

Serenely  my  heart  took  the  hue  of  the  hour, 

Its  passions  were  sleeping,  were  mute  as  the  dead ; 

And  the  spirit  becalm'd  but  remember'd  their  power, 
As  the  billow  the  force  of  the  gale  that  was  fled. 

I  thought  of  those  days,  Avhen  to  pleasure  alone 
My  heart  ever  granted  a  wish  or  a  sigh ; 

When  the  saddest  emotion  my  bosom  had  known, 
Was  pity  for  those  who  were  wiser  than  I. 

I  reflected,  how  soon  in  the  cup  of  Desire 
The  pearl  of  the  soul  may  be  melted  away ; 

How  quickly,  alas,  the  pure  sparkle  of  fire 

We  inherit  from  heav'n,  may  be  quenched  in  the 
clay; 

And  I  pray'd  of  that  Spirit  who  hghted  the  flame, 
That  Pleasure  no  more  might  its  purity  dim ; 


30  POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA. 

So  that,  sullied  but  little,  or  brightly  the  same, 
I  might  give  back  the  boon  I  had  borrow'd  from 
Ilim. 

How  blest  was  the  thought !  it  ajipoar'd  as  if  Heaven 
Had  already  an  opening  to  Paradise  shown  ; 

As  if,  passion  all  chasten'd  and  error  forgiven, 
My  heart  then  began  to  be  purely  its  own. 

I  look'd  to  the  west,  and  the  beautiful  sky 

Which  morning  had  clouded,  was  clouded  no  more: 

"  Oh  !  thus,"  I  exclaimed,  "  may  a  heavenly  eye 
"  Shed  light  on  the  soul  that  was  darken'd  before." 


TO   THE  FLYING-FISH. 

"When  I  have  seen  thy  snow-white  wing 
From  the  blue  wave  at  evening  spring, 
And  show  those  scales  of  silvery  white, 
So  gaily  to  the  eye  of  light. 
As  if  thy  frame  were  form'd  to  rise, 
And  live  amid  the  glorious  skies ; 
Oh  !  it  has  made  me  proudly  feel. 
How  like  thy  wing's  impatient  zeal 
Is  tlie  ])ure  soul,  that  rests  not,  pent 
Within  this  world's  gross  element. 
But  takes  tlie  wing  that  God  has  given, 
And  rises  into  light  and  heaven  ! 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  31 

But,  when  I  see  that  wing,  so  bright, 
Gi'ow  languid  with  a  moment's  flight, 
Attempt  the  paths  of  air  in  vain. 
And  sink  into  the  waves  again ; 
Alas  !  the  flattering  pride  is  o'er  ; 
Like  thee,  awhile,  the  soul  may  soar. 
But  erring  man  must  blush  to  tiiink, 
Like  thee,  again  the  soul  may  sink. 

Oh  Virtue !  when  thy  clime  I  seek, 
Let  not  my  spirit's  flight  be  weak : 
Let  me  not,  like  this  feeble  thing, 
"With  brine  still  dropping  from  its  wing, 
Just  sparkle  in  the  solar  glow 
And  plunge  again  to  depths  below. 
But,  when  I  leave  the  grosser  throng 
With  whom  my  soul  hath  dwelt  so  long, 
Let  me,  in  that  aspiring  day. 
Cast  every  lingering  stain  away. 
And,  panting  for  thy  purer  air, 
Fly  up  at  once  and  fix  me  there. 


32  POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMEKICA. 

TO   MISS   MOORE. 

FROM   NORFOLK,    IN   VIRGINIA,    NOVEMBER,    1803. 

In  days,  my  Kate,  wlien  lift;  was  new, 
When,  lull'd  with  innocence  and  you, 
I  heard,  in  home's  beloved  shade, 
The  din  the  world  at  distance  made ; 
When,  every  night  my  weary  head 
Sunk  on  its  own  unthorned  bed. 
And,  mild  as  evening's  matron  hour, 
Looks  on  the  faintly  shutting  flower, 
A  motlier  saw  our  eyelids  close. 
And  bless'd  them  into  pure  repose; 
Then  haply  if  a  week,  a  day, 
I  linger'd  from  that  home  away, 
How  long  the  little  absence  seem'd ! 
How  bright  the  look  of  Welcome  beam'd, 
As  mute  you  heai-d,  with  eager  smile. 
My  tales  of  all  that  pass'd  the  while ! 

Yet  now,  my  Kate,  a  gloomy  sea 
Rolls  wide  between  that  home  and  me ; 
The  moon  may  tlirice  be  born  and  die, 
Ere  ev'n  that  seal  can  reacli  mine  eye, 
Which  used  so  oft,  so  quick  to  come. 
Still  breathing  all  the  breath  of  home,  — 
As  if,  still  fresh,  the  cordial  air 
From  lips  belov'd  were  lingering  there. 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  33 

But  now,  alas,  —  far  different  fate  ! 
It  comes  o'er  ocean,  slow  and  late, 
When  the  dear  hand  that  fill'd  its  fold 
"With  words  of  sweetness  may  lie  cold. 

But  hence  that  gloomy  thought !  at  last, 
Beloved  Kate,  the  waves  are  past : 
I  tread  on  earth  securely  now, 
And  the  green  cedar's  living  bough 
Breathes  more  refreshment  to  my  eyes 
Than  could  a  Claude's  divinest  dyes. 
At  length  I  touch  the  happy  sphere 
To  liberty  and  virtue  dear, 
Where  man  looks  up,  and,  proud  to  claim 
His  rank  within  the  social  frame. 
Sees  a  grand  system  round  him  roll. 
Himself  its  centre,  sun,  and  soul ! 
Far  from  the  shocks  of  Europe  —  far 
From  every  wild,  elliptic  star 
That,  shooting  with  a  devious  fire, 
Kindled  by  heaven's  avenging  ire, 
So  oft  hath  into  chaos  hurl'd 
The  systems  of  the  ancient  world. 

The  warrior  here,  in  arms  no  more, 
Thinks  of  the  toil,  the  conflict  o'er. 
And  glorying  in  the  freedom  won 
For  hearth  and  shrine,  for  sire  and  son, 
Smiles  on  the  dusky  webs  that  hide 
His  sleeping  sword's  remember'd  pride. 
VOL.  11.  3 


34  rOE.MS    UELATIXG    TO    AMERICA. 

While  Peace,  with  sunny  cheeks  of  toil, 
Walks  o'ei"  the  free,  unlorded  soil, 
Effacing  with  her  splendid  share 
The  drops  that  war  had  sprinkled  there. 
Thrice  happy  land !  where  he  who  flies 
From  the  dark  ills  of  other  skies, 
.    From  scorn,  or  want's  unnerving  woes, 
May  shelter  him  in  proud  repose: 
Hope  sings  along  the  yellow  sand 
His  welcome  to  a  patriot  land ; 
The  mighty  wood,  with  pomp,  receives 
The  stranger  in  its  world  of  leaves. 
Which  soon  their  barren  glory  yield 
To  the  warm  shed  and  cultur'd  field ; 
And  he,  who  came,  of  all  bereft. 
To  whom  malignant  fate  had  left 
Nor  home  nor  friends  nor  country  dear, 
Finds  home  and  friends  and  country  here. 

Such  is  the  picture,  warmly  such. 
That  Fancy  long,  with  florid  touch, 
Had  painted  to  my  sanguine  eye 
Of  man's  new  world  of  liberty. 
Oh  !  ask  me  not,  if  Truth  have  yet 
Her  seal  on  Fancj's  promise  set ; 
If  ev'n  a  glimpse  my  eyes  behold 
Of  that  imagin'd  age  of  gold  ;  — 
.  Alas,  not  yet  one  gleaming  trace  !  * 

*  Such  roniaiitic  works  :is  "  The  Aiiicriciui  Fiirmer's  Letters," 
and  the  account  of  Kentucky  by  Imlay,  would  seduce  us  into  ji 


POEMS    RELATING   TO    AMERICA.  35 

Never  did  youth,  who  lov'd  a  face 
As  sketch'd  by  some  fond  pencil's  skill 
And  made  by  fancy  lovelier  still, 
Shrink  back  with  more  of  sad  surprise, 
When  the  live  model  met  his  eyes, 
Tiian  I  have  felt,  in  sorrow  felt, 
To  find  a  dream  on  which  I've  dwelt 
From  boyhood's  hour,  thus  fade  and  flee 
At  touch  of  stern  reality  ! 

But,  courage,  yet,  my  wavering  heart ! 
Blame  not  the  temple's  meanest  part  * 
Till  thou  hast  trac'd  the  fabi'ic  o'er  : 
As  yet,  we  have  beheld  no  more 
Than  just  the  porch  to  Freedom's  fane  ; 
And,  though  a  sable  spot  may  stain 
The  vestibule,  'tis  wrong,  'tis  sin 
To  doubt  the  godhead  reigns  within  ! 
So  here  I  pause  —  and  now,  my  Kate, 
To  you,  and  those  dear  friends,  whose  fate 

belief,  that  innocence,  peace,  and  freedom  had  deserted  the  rest 
of  the  world  for  Martha's  Vineyard  and  the  banks  of  the  Ohio. 
The  French  travellers,  too,  almost  all  from  revolutionary  motives, 
have  contributed  their  share  to  the  diffusion  of  this  flattering 
misconception.  A  visit  to  the  country  is,  however,  quite  suffi- 
cient to  correct  even  the  most  enthusiastic  prepossession. 

*  Norfolk,  it  must  be  owned,  presents  an  unfavourable  speci- 
men of  America.  The  characteristics  of  Virginia  in  general  are 
not  such  as  can  delight  either  the  politician  or  the  moralist, 
and  at  Norfolk  they  are  exhibited  in  their  least  attractive  fomi. 
At  the  time  when  we  arrived  the  yellow  fever  had  not  yet  dis- 
appeared, and  every  odour  that  assailed  us  in  the  streets  very 
strong!}-  accounted  for  its  visitation. 


36  I'OEMS    KELATING    TO    AMERICA. 

Touches  more  near  this  home-sick  soul 
Than  all  the  Powers  from  pole  to  pole, 
One  word  at  parting,  —  in  the  tone 
Most  sweet  to  you,  and  most  my  own. 
The  simple  strain  I  send  you  here,* 
"Wild  though  it  be,  would  charm  your  ear, 
Did  you  but  know  the  trance  of  thought 
In  which  my  mind  its  numbers  caught. 
'Twas  one  of  those  half-waking  dreams, 
That  haunt  me  oft,  Avhen  music  seems 
To  bear  my  soul  in  sound  along, 
And  turn  its  feelings  all  to  song. 
T  thought  of  home,  the  according  lays 
Came  full  of  dreams  of  other  days ; 
Freshly  in  each  succeeding  note 
I  found  some  young  remembrance  float. 
Till  following,  as  a  clue,  that  strain, 
I  wander'd  back  to  home  again. 

Oh !  love  the  song,  and  let  it  oft  , 

Live  on  your  lip  in  accents  soft. 
Say  that  it  tells  you,  simply  well, 
All  I  have  bid  its  wild  notes  tell,  — 
Of  Memory's  dream,  of  thoughts  that  yet 
Glow  with  the  light  of  joy  that's  set, 
And  all  the  fond  heart  keeps  in  store 
Of  friends  and  scenes  beheld  no  more. 
And  now,  adieu!  —  this  artless  air, 
With  a  few  rhymes,  in  transcript  fair, 

*  A  trifling  attempt  at  a  musical  composition  accompanied 
this  Epistle. 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  37 

Are  all  the  gifts  I  yet  can  boast   , 
To  send  you  from  Columbia's  coast ; 
But  when  the  sun,  with  warmer  smile, 
Shall  light  me  to  my  destin'd  isle,* 
You  shall  have  many  a  cowslip-bell, 
Where  Ariel  slept,  and  many  a  shell. 
In  which  that  gentle  spirit  drew 
From  honey  flowers  the  morning  dew. 


A  BALLAD. 

THE    LAKE    OF    THE    DISMAL    SWAMP. 

WRITTEN  AT  NORFOLK,   IN   VIRGINIA. 

"  They  tell  of  a  young  man,  who  lost  his  mind  upon  the  death  of  a 
girl  he  loved,  and  who,  suddenly  disappearing  from  his  friends,  was 
never  afterwards  heard  of.  As  he  had  frequently  said,  in  his  ravings, 
that  the  girl  was  not  dead,  hut  gone  to  the  Dismal  Swamp,  it  is  supposed 
he  had  wandered  into  that  dreary  wilderness,  and  had  died  of  hunger,  or 
been  lost  in  some  of  its  dreadful  morasses.'"  —  Anon. 

"  La  Poesie  a  ses  monstres  comme  la  nature."  —  D'Alembert. 

"  They  made  her  a  grave,  too  cold  and  damp 

"  For  a  soul  so  warm  and  true ; 
"And   she's    gone  to   the  Lake  of  the    Dismal 

Swamp,t 
"Where,  all  night  long,  by  a  fire-fly  lamp, 

"  She  paddles  her  Avhite  canoe. 

*  Bermuda. 

t  The  Great  Dismal  Swamp  is  ten  or  twelve  miles  distant 
from  Xorfolk,  and  the  Lake  in  the  middle  of  it  (about  seven 
miles  long)  is  called  Drummond's  Pond. 


38  POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA. 

"  Alul  lior  iirc-fly  lain})  I  soon  shall  see, 

'•  And  her  paddle  I  soon  shall  hear ; 
"  Long  and  loving  our  life  shall  be, 
"  And  I  '11  hide  the  maid  in  a  cypress  tree, 
"  When  the  footstep  of  death  is  near." 

Away  to  the  Dismal  Swamp  he  speeds  — 

His  path  was  rugged  and  sore, 
Through  tangled  juniper,  beds  of  reeds. 
Through  many  a  fen,  where  the  serpent  feeds, 

And  man  never  trod  before. 

And,  when  on  the  earth  he  sunk  to  sleep, 

If  slumber  his  eyelids  knew. 
Pie  lay,  where  the  deadly  vine  doth  weep 
Its  venomous  tear  and  nightly  steep 

The  flesh  with  blisterin<}r  dew ! 


D 


And  near  him  the  she-wolf  stirr'd  the  brake, 
And  the  copper-snake  breath'd  in  his  ear, 
Till  he  starting  cried,  from  his  dream  awake, 
*'  Oh  !  when  shall  I  see  the  dusky  Lake, 
"And  the  white  canoe  of  my  dear?" 

He  saw  the  Lake,  and  a  meteor  bright 

Quick  over  its  surface  play'd  — 
"  "Welcome,"  he  said,  "  my  dear-one's  light !  " 
And  the  dim  shore  echoed,  for  many  a  night, 
The  name  of  the  death-cold  maid. 


POEMS    RELATIXG    TO    AMERICA.  39 

Till  he  hollow'd  a  boat  of  the  birchen  bark, 

Which  carried  him  off  from  shore  ; 
Far,  far  he  follow'd  the  meteor  spark, 
The  wind  Avas  high  and  the  clouds  were  dai'k, 

And  the  boat  return'd  no  more. 

But  oft,  from  the  Indian  hunter's  camp 

This  lover  and  maid  so  true 
Are  seen  at  the  hour  of  midnight  damp 
To  cross  the  Lake  by  a  fire-fly  lamp, 

And  paddle  their  white  canoe ! 


TO   THE  MARCHIONESS   DOWAGER   OF 
DONEGALL. 

FROM   BERMUDA,   JANUARY,   1804. 

Ladt  !  where'er  you  roam,  whatever  land 
Woos  the  bright  touches  of  that  artist  hand  ; 
"Whether  you  sketch  the  valley's  golden  meads, 
"Where  mazy  Linth  his  lingering  current  leads ;  * 
Eftamour'd  catch  the  mellow  hues  that  sleep, 
At  eve,  on  Meillerie's  immortal  steep  ; 
Or  musing  o'er  the  Lake,  at  day's  decline, 
Mark  the  last  shadow  on  that  holy  shrine,t 

*  Lady  Donegal],  I  had  reason  to  suppose,  was  at  this  time 
still  in  Switzerland,  where  the  well-known  powers  of  her  pencil 
must  have  been  frequently  awakened. 

t  The  chapel  of  William  Tell  on  the  Lake  of  Lucerne. 


40  rOEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA. 

"Where,  many  a  night,  the  shade  of  Tell  complains 
Of  f4allia's  triumph  and  Helvetia's  chains  ; 
Oh  !  lay  the  pencil  for  a  moment  by, 
Turn  from  the  canvas  that  creative  eye, 
And  let  its  splendour,  like  the  morning  ray 
Upon  a  shepherd's  harp,  illume  my  lay. 

Yet,  Lady,  no  —  for  song  so  rude  as  mine, 
Chase  not  the  M'onders  of  your  art  divine ; 
Still,  radiant  eye,  upon  the  canvas  dwell ; 
Still,  magic  finger,  weave  your  potent  spell ; 
And,  while  I  sing  the  animated  smiles 
Of  fairy  nature  in  these  sun-born  isles. 
Oh,  might  the  song  awake  some  bright  design, 
Inspire  a  touch,  or  prompt  one  happy  line, 
Proud  were  my  soul,  to  see  its  humble  thought 
On  painting's  mirror  so  divinely  caught ; 
While  wondering  Genius,  as  he  lean'd  to  trace 
The  faint  conception  kindling  into  grace, 
INIight  love  my  numbers  for  the  spark  they  threw, 
And  bless  the  lay  that  lent  a  charm  to  you. 

Say,  have  you  ne'er,  in  nightly  vision,  stray'd    . 
To  those  pure  isles  of  ever-blooming  shade, 
Which  bards  of  old,  with  kindly  fancy,  plac'd 
For  happy  spirits  in  th'  Atlantic  waste  ?  * 

*  JI.  Gebclin  say?,  in  his  J/om/e  Primillf,  "  Lorsque  Strabon 
criit  que  les  aiiciens  tli(5ologieiis  et  poetes  pla^oient  les  chainpes 
<51ys<5cs  dans  les  isles  de  1' Ocean  Atlantique,  il  n'entendit  rien  k 
leur  doctrine."  M.  (Jehelin's  supposition,  I  liavo  no  doubt,  is  the 
more  correct;  but  that  of  Strabo  is,  in  the  present  instance,  most 
to  my  purpose.- 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  41 

There  listening,  while,  from  earth,  each  breeze  that 

came 
Brought  echoes  of  their  own  undjnng  fame, 
In  eloquence  of  eye,  and  dreams  of  song. 
They  charm'd  their  lapse  of  nightless  hours  along: — 
Nor  yet  in  song,  that  mortal  ear  might  suit, 
For  every  spirit  was  itself  a  lute. 
Where  Virtue  waken'd,  with  elysian  breeze, 
Pure  tones  of  thought  and  mental  harmonies. 


o 


Believe  me.  Lady,  when  the  zephyrs  bland 
Floated  our  bark  to  this  enchanted  land,  — 
These  leafy  isles  upon  the  ocean  thrown. 
Like  studs  of  emerald  o'er  a  silver  zone,  — 
Not  all  the  charm,  that  ethnic  fancy  gave 
To  blessed  arbours  o'er  the  westei-n  wave, 
Could  wake  a  dream,  more  soothing  or  sublime, 
Of  bowers  ethereal,  and  the  Spirit's  clime. 

Bright  rose  the  morning,  every  wave  was  stiU, 
When  the  first  perfume  of  a  cedar  hill 
Sweetly  awak'd  us,  and,  with  smiling  charms, 
The  fairy  harbour  woo'd  us  to  its  arms.* 


*  Nothing  can  be  more  romantic  than  the  little  harbour  of  St. 
George's.  The  number  of  beautiful  islets,  the  singular  clearness 
of  the  water,  and  the  animated  play  of  the  gi-accful  little  boats, 
gliding  for  ever  between  the  islands,  and  seeming  to  sail  from  one 
cedar-gi-ove  into  another,  formed  altogether  as  lovely  a  minia- 
ture of  nature's  beauties  as  can  well  be  imagined. 


42  POEMS   RELATING    TO    AMERICA. 

Gently  we  stole,  before  the  whispering  wind, 
Through  ]>];iintain  shades,  that  round,  like  awnings, 

twin'd 
And  kis.s'd  on  either  side  the  wanton  sails, 
Breathing  our  welcome  to  these  vernal  vales ; 
Wiiile,  far  reflected  o'er  the  wave  serene, 
Each  wooded  island  shed  so  soft  a  green 
That  the  enamour'd  keel,  with  whispering  play, 
Through  liquid  herbage  seem'd  to  steal  its  way. 

Never  did  weary  bark  more  gladly  glide. 
Or  rest  its  anchor  in  a  lovelier  tide  ! 
Along  the  margin,  many  a  shining  dome, 
White  as  the  palace  of  a  Lai)land  gnome, 
Brighten'd  the  wave  ;  —  in  every  myrtle  grove 
Secluded  bashful,  like  a  shrine  of  love. 
Some  elfin  mansion  sparkU'd  through  the  shade  ; 
And,  while  tlie  foliage  iuterj)osing  })lay'd. 
Lending  the  scene  an  ever-changing  grace, 
Fancy  would  love,  in  glimpses  vague,  to  trace 
The  flowery  capital,  the  shaft,  the  porch,* 
And  dream  of  temples,  till  her  kindling  torch 
Lighted  me  back  to  all  the  glorious  days 
Of  Attic  genius  ;  and  I  seem'd  to  gaze 

*  Tliis  is  an  ilIii>-ioii  wliicli,  to  the  few  who  arc  fanciful 
enough  to  in(hilj;e  in  it,  renders  tlie  scenery  of  Rerniuda  par- 
ticuhirly  interesting.  In  the  short  but  beautiful  twiliglit  of  their 
spring  evenings,  the  white  cottages,  scattered  over  the  islands, 
and  but  partially  seen  tlirougii  tlie  trees  that  surround  them, 
assume  often  the  appearance  of  little  Grecian  temples. 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    A5IERICA.  43 

On  marble,  from  the  rich  Pentelic  mount, 
Gracing  the  umbrage  of  some  Naiad's  fount. 

Then  thought  I,  too,  of  thee,  most  sweet  of  all 
The  spirit  race  that  come  at  poet's  call. 
Delicate  Ariel !  who,  in  brighter  hours, 
Liv'd  on  the  perfume  of  these  honied  bowers, 
In  velvet  buds,  at  evening,  lov'd  to  lie, 
And  win  with  music  every  rose's  sigh. 
Though  weak  the  magic  of  my  humble  strain 
To  charm  your  spirit  from  its  orb  again, 
Yet,  oh,  for  her,  beneath  whose  smile  I  sing, 
For  her  (whose  pencil,  if  your  rainbow  wing 
"Were  dimm'd  or  ruffled  by  a  wintry  sky, 
Could  smooth  its  feather  and  relume  its  dye,) 
Descend  a  moment  from  your  starry  sphere, 
And,  if  the  lime-tree  grove  that  once  was  dear, 
The  sunny  wave,  the  bovver,  the  bi-eezy  hill. 
The  sparkling  grotto  can  delight  you  still. 
Oh  cull  their  choicest  tints,  their  softest  light, 
Weave  all  these  spells  into  one  dream  of  night. 
And,  while  the  lovely  artist  slumbering  lies. 
Shed  the  warm  picture  o'er  her  mental  eyes ; 
Take  for  the  task  her  own  creative  spells, 
And  brightly  show  what  song  but  faintly  tells. 


44  POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA. 


TO   GEORGE   MORGAN,  ESQ. 

OF    NOKFOLK,   VIKGINIA. 

FROM    BERMUDA,    JANUARY,    1804. 

KeivTi  6'  TjVEnoeaaa  aai.  arpoTiog,  oia  i?'  iTunT^r}^, 
kv9vLr)c:  Kai  iialOjov  eniSpo/xog  Tjenep  innoig, 
TlovTcj  £vea-7ipiK-ac. 

Callimach-  Hymn,  in  Del.  t.  11. 

Oh,  what  a  sea  of  storm  we've  pass'd  !  — 

High  mountain  waves  and  foamy  showers, 
And  battHng  winds  whose  savage  blast 
But  ill  agrees  with  one  whose  hours 
Have  jiassed  in  old  Anacreon's  bowers. 
Yet  think  not  poesy's  bright  charm 
Forsook  me  in  this  rude  alarm :  — 
When  close  they  reefd  the  timid  sail, 

When,  every  plank  complaining  loud. 
We  labour'd  in  the  midnight  gale, 

And  ev'n  our  haughty  main-mast  bow'd, 
Even  then,  in  that  unlovely  hour, 
The  Muse  still  brought  her  soothing  power, 
And,  midst  the  war  of  waves  and  wind, 
In  song's  Elysium  lapp'd  my  mind. 
Nay,  when  no  numbers  of  my  own 
Responded  to  her  ^'akening  tone, 
She  open'd,  with  her  golden  key, 
The  casket  where  my  memory  lays 


POEMS    KELATIXG    TO    AMERICA.  45 

Those  gems  of  classic  poesj, 

Which  time  has  sav'd  from  ancient  days. 

Take  one  of  these,  to  Lais  sung,  — 
I  wrote  it  while  ray  hammock  swung, 
As  one  might  write  a  dissertation 
Upon  "  Suspended  Animation  !  " 

Sweet  *  is  your  kiss,  my  Lais  dear, 
But,  with  that  kiss  I  feel  a  tear 
Gush  from  your  eyelids,  such  as  start 
When  those  who've  dearly  lov'd  must  part. 
Sadly  you  lean  your  head  to  mine. 
And  mute  those  arms  around  me  twine, 
Your  hair  adown  my  bosom  spread, 
All  glittering  with  the  tears  you  shed. 
In  vain  I've  kiss'd  those  lids  of  snow. 
For  still,  like  ceaseless  founts  they  flow. 
Bathing  our  cheeks,  whene'er  they  meet. 
Why  is  it  thus  ?  do,  tell  me,  sweet ! 
Ah,  Lais  !  are  my  bodings  right  ? 
Am  I  to  lose  you,  is  to-night 

Our  last go,  false  to  heaven  and  me ! 

Your  very  tears  are  treachery. 


Such,  while  in  air  I  floating  hung. 
Such  was  the  strain,  Morgante  mio ! 


*  This  epigram  is  by  Paul  the  Silentiary,  and  may  be  fouiid 
in  the  Aualecta  of  Bi-unck,  vol.  iii.  p.  72. 


46  rOEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA. 

The  muse  and  I  together  sung, 

"Witli  Boreas  to  make  out  the  trio. 
But,  bless  tlie  little  fairy  isle  ! 

IIow  sweetly  after  all  our  ills. 
We  saw  the  sunny  morning  smile 
Serenely  o'er  its  fragrant  hills  ; 
And  felt  the  pure,  delicious  flow 
Of  airs,  that  round  this  Eden  blow 
Freshly  as  ev'n  the  gales  that  come 
O'er  our  own  healthy  hills  at  home. 

Could  you  but  view  the  scenery  fair. 

That  now  beneath  my  window  lies, 
You  'd  think,  that  nature  lavish'd  there 

Her  purest  wave,  her  softest  skies. 
To  make  a  heaven  for  love  to  sijxh  in. 
For  bards  to  live  and  saints  to  die  in. 
Close  to  my  wooded  bank  below, 

In  glassy  calm  the  waters  sleep, 
And  to  the  sunbeam  proudly  show 

The  coral  rocks  they  love  to  steep.* 
The  fainting  breeze  of  morning  fails; 

The  drowsy  boat  moves  slowly  past, 

*  The  water  is  so  clear  around  the  island,  that  the  rocks  are 
seen  beneath  to  a  very  great  depth;  and,  as  we  entered  the  har- 
bour, they  appeared  to  us  so  near  the  surface  that  it  seemed  im- 
possible we  should  not  strike  on  them.  There  is  no  necessity, 
of  course,  for  heaving  the  lead;  and  the  negro  pilot,  looking 
down  at  the  rocks  from  the  bow  of  tiie  ship,  takes  her  through 
this  difficult  navigation,  with  a  skill  and  contidence  which  seem 
to  astonish  some  of  the  oldest  sailors. 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  47 

And  I  can  almost  touch  its  sails 

As  loose  they  flap  around  the  mast. 

The  noontide  sun  a  splendour  pours 

That  lights  up  all  these  leafy  shores ; 

While  his  own  heav'n,  its  clouds  and  beams, 
So  pictured  in  the  waters  lie, 

That  each  small  bark,  in  passing,  seems 
To  float  along  a  bui-ning  sky. 

Oh  for  the  pinnace  lent  to  thee,* 

Blest  dreamer,  who,  in  vision  bright, 
Didst  sail  o'er  heaven's  solar  sea 

And  touch  at  all  its  isles  of  light. 
Sweet  Venus,  what  a  clime  he  found 
Within  thy  orb's  ambrosial  round !  —  f 
There  spring  the  breezes,  rich  and  warm, 
That  sigh  around  thy  vesper  car ; 

*  In  Kircher's  "  Ecstatic  Journey  to  Heaven,"  Cosmiel,  the 
genius  of  tlie  world,  gives  Theodidactus  a  boat  of  asbestos,  with 
which  he  embarks  into  the  regions  of  the  sun.  "  V'ides  (says 
Cosmifl)  hanc  asbestinara  naviculam  commoditati  tuse  prx- 
paratam."  —  Itinerar.  I.  Dial.  i.  cap.  5. 

t  When  the  Genius  of  the  world  and  his  fellow-traveller  ar- 
rive at  the  planet  Venus,  they  find  an  island  of  loveliness,  full 
of  odours  and  intelligences,  where  angels  preside,  who  shed  the 
cosmetic  influence  of  this  planet  over  the  earth;  such  being, 
according  to  astrologers,  the  "vis  influxiva"  of  Venus.  When 
the}'  are  in  this  part  of  the  heavens,  a  casuistical  question  occurs 
to  Theodidactus,  and  he  asks,  "  Whether  baptism  may  be  per- 
formed with  the  waters  of  Venus?  "  — ''  An  aquis  globi  Veneris 
baptismus  institui  possit?"  to  which  the  Genius  answers, 
"  Certainly." 


48       rOEMS  KKLATING  TO  AMKUICA. 

And  fuigels  dwell,  so  pure  of  form 

That  ciich  appears  a  living  star.* 
These  are  the  sprites,  celestial  queen! 

Thou  sendest  nightly  to  the  bed 
Of  lier  I  love,  with  touch  unseen 

Thy  planet's  brightening  tints  to  shed ; 
To  lend  that  eye  a  light  still  clearer, 

To  give  that  cheek  one  rose-blush  more. 
And  bid  that  blushing  lip  be  dearer, 

AVhich  had  been  all  too  dear  before. 

But,  -whither  means  the  muse  to  roam  ? 

'Tis  time  to  call  the  wanderer  home. 

Who    could   have   thought   the   nympli  would 

perch  her 
Up  in  the  clouds  with  Father  Kircher? 
So,  health  and  love  to  all  your  mansion ! 

Long  may  the  bowl  that  pleasures  bloom  in, 
The  flow  of  heart,  the  soul's  expansion, 

Mirth  and  song,  your  board  illumine. 
At  all  your  feasts,  remember  too, 

When  cups  are  sparkling  to  the  brim, 
That  here  is  one  who  drinks  to  you. 

And,  oh !  as  warmly  drink  to  him. 

•  This  idea  is  Father  Kircher's.    "  Tot  animatos  soles  dix- 
isses.''  —  Itinerar.  I.  Dial.  i.  cap.  5. 


POEMS  RELATING  TO  AMERICA.        49 


LINES, 
WRITTEN  IN  A   STORM  AT  SEA. 

That  sky  of  clouds  is  not  the  sky 
To  liglit  a  lover  to  the  pillow 

Of  her  he  loves  — 
The  swell  of  yonder  foaming  billow 
Resembles  not  the  happy  sigh 

That  rapture  moves. 

Yet  do  I  feel  more  tranquil  far 
Amid  the  gloomy  wilds  of  ocean, 

In  this  dark  hour, 
Than  when,  in  passion's  young  emotion, 
I've  stolen,  beneath  the  evening  star, 

To  Juha's  bower. 

Oh !  there 's  a  holy  calm  profound 
In  awe  like  this,  that  ne'er  was  given 

To  pleasure's  thrill ; 
'Tis  as  a  solemn  voice  from  heaven. 
And  the  soul,  listening  to  the  sound. 

Lies  mute  and  still. 

'Tis  true,  it  talks  of  danger  nigh, 
Of  slumbering  with  the  dead  to-morrow 
In  the  cold  deep, 
VOL.  II.  4 


50  POEMS   RELATING   TO    AMERICA. 

"Where  pleasure's  throb  or  tears  of  soitow 
No  more  shall  Avake  the  heart  or  eye, 
But  all  must  sleep. 

Well!  —  there  are  some,  thou  stormy  bed, 
To  whom  thy  sleep  would  be  a  treasure  ; 

Oh  !  most  to  him, 
"Whose  lip  hath  drain'd  life's  cup  of  pleasure, 
Nor  left  one  honey  drop  to  shed 

Round  sorrow's  brim. 

Yes  —  he  can  smile  serene  at  death  : 

Kind  heaven,  do  thou  but  chase  the  weeping 

Of  friends  who  love  him  ; 
Tell  them  that  he  lies  calmly  sleeping 
"Where  sorrow's  sting  or  envy's  breath 

No  more  shall  move  him. 


ODES     TO     NEA; 


"WEITTEX   AT   BERMUDA. 


NEA  TvpavvEi. 

EcBiPiD.  Medea,  v.  967 


Nay,  tempt  me  not  to  love  again, 

There  was  a  time  when  love  was  sweet ; 
Dear  Nea!  had  I  known  thee  then, 

Our  souls  had  not  been  slow  to  meet. 
But,  oh,  this  weary  heart  hath  run. 

So  many  a  time,  the  rounds  of  pain, 
Not  ev'n  for  thee,  thou  lovely  one, 

"Would  I  endure  such  pangs  again. 

If  there  be  climes,  where  never  yet 
The  print  of  beauty's  foot  was  set. 
Where  man  may  pass  his  loveless  nights, 
Unfever'd  by  her  false  delights, 
Thither  my  wounded  soul  would  fly, 
"Where  rosy  cheek  or  radiant  eye 
Should  bring  no  more  their  bhss,  or  pain. 
Nor  fetter  me  to  earth  again. 


52  POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMEKICA. 

Dear  absent  girl!  whose  eyes  of  liglU, 

Thougli  little  priz'd  when  all  ray  own, 
Now  float  before  me,  soft  and  bright 

As  when  they  first  enamouring  shone, — 
What  hours  and  days  have  I  seen  glide, 
AVliile  fix'd,  enchanted,  by  thy  side, 
Unmindful  of  the  fleeting  day, 
I  've  let  life's  dream  dissolve  away. 
0  bloom  of  youth  profusely  shed ! 
O  moments  !  simply,  vainly  sped, 
Yet  sweetly  too  —  for  Love  perfum'd 
The  flame  which  thus  my  life  consum'd ; 
■  And  brilliant  was  the  chain  of  flowers, 
In  which  he  led  my  victim-hours. 

Say,  Nea,  say,  couldst  thou,  like  her, 
When  warm  to  feel  and  quick  to  err. 
Of  loving  fond,  of  roving  fonder. 
This  thoughtless  soul  might  wish  to  wander, 
Couldst  thou,  like  her,  the  wish  reclaim, 

Endearing  still,  reproaching  never. 
Till  ev'n  this  heart  should  burn  with  shame, 

And  be  thy  own  more  fix'd  than  ever  ? 
No,  no  —  on  earth  there's  only  one 

Could  bind  such  faithless  folly  fast ; 
And  sure  on  earth  but  one  alone 

Could  make  such  virtue  false  at  last ! 

Nea,  the  heart  which  she  forsook. 

For  thee  wei'e  but  a  worthless  shrine  — 


ODES    TO    NEA.  53 

Go,  lovely  girl,  that  angel  look 

Must  thrill  a  soul  more  pure  than  mine. 

Oh !  thou  shalt  be  all  else  to  me, 

That  heart  can  feel  or  tongue  can  feign  ; 

I'll  praise,  admire,  and  worship  thee, 
But  must  not,  dare  not,  love  again. 


—  Tale  iter  omne  cave. 

Propert.  lib.  iv.  eleg.  8. 

I  PRAT  you,  let  us  roam  no  more 
Along  that  wild  and  lonely  shore, 

Where  late  we  thoughtless  stray'd  ; 
'T  was  not  for  us,  whom  heaven  intends 
To  be  no  more  than  simple  friends. 

Such  lonely  walks  were  made. 

That  little  Bay,  where  turning  in 
From  ocean's  rude  and  angry  din. 

As  lovers  steal  to  bliss, 
The  billows  kiss  the  shore,  and  then 
Flow  back  into  the  deep  again, 

As  though  they  did  not  kiss. 

Eemember,  o'er  its  cii'cling  flood 

In  what  a  dangerous  dream  we  stood  — 

The  silent  sea  before  us. 
Around  us,  all  the  gloom  of  grove, 
That  ever  lent  its  shade  to  love. 

No  eve  but  heaven 's  o'er  us  ! 


54  POEMS   RELATING   TO   AMERICA. 

I  saw  you  blush,  you  felt  me  tremble, 
In  vain  would  formal  art  dissemble 

All  we  then  look'd  and  thought ; 
'Twas  more  than  tongue  could  dare  reveal, 
'Twas  ev'ry  thing  that  young  hearts  feel, 

By  Love  and  Nature  ttuight. 

I  stoop'd  to  cull,  with  faltering  hand, 
A  shell  that,  on  the  golden  sand, 

Before  us  faintly  gleam'd  ; 
I  trembling  rais'd  it,  and  when  you 
Had  kist  the  shell,  I  kist  it  too  — 

How  sweet,  how  wrong  it  seem'd ! 

Oh,  trust  me,  'twas  a  place,  an  hour. 
The  worst  that  e'er  the  tempter's  power 

Could  tangle  me  or  you  in ; 
Sweet  Nea,  let  us  roam  no  more 
Along  that  wild  and  lonely  shore, 

Such  walks  may  be  our  ruin. 


You  read  it  in  these  spell-bound  eyes, 
And  there  alone  should  love  be  read  ; 

You  hear  me  say  it  all  in  sighs. 

And  thus  alone  should  love  be  said. 

Then  dread  no  more  ;  I  will  not  speak  ; 
Although  my  heart  to  anguish  thrill. 


ODES    TO    NEA.  55 

I'll  spare  the  burning  of  your  cheek, 
And  look  it  all  in  silence  still. 

Heard  you  the  wish  I  dar'd  to  name, 
To  murmur  on  that  luckless  night. 

When  passion  broke  the  bonds  of  shame, 
And  love  grew  madness  in  your  sight  ? 

Divinely  through  the  graceful  dance, 
You  seem'd  to  float  in  silent  song. 

Bending  to  earth  that  sunny  glance. 
As  if  to  light  your  steps  along. 

Oh !  how  could  others  dare  to  touch 
That  hallow'd  form  wdth  hand  so  free. 

When  but  to  look  was  bliss  too  much, 
Too  rare  for  all  but  Love  and  me ! 

With  smiling  eyes,  that  little  thought 
How  fatal  were  the  beams  they  threw, 

My  trembling  hands  you  lightly  caught. 
And  round  me,  like  a  spirit,  flew. 

Heedless  of  all,  but  you  alone,  — 

And  you,  at  least,  should  not  condemn, 

If,  when  such  eyes  before  me  shone. 
My  soul  forgot  all  eyes  but  them,  — 

I  dar'd  to  whisper  passion's  vow,  — 

For  love  had  ev'n  of  thought  bereft  me,  — 


56        POEMS  RELATING  TO  AMEKICA. 

Nay,  half-way  bent  to  kiss  tliat  brow, 
But,  witli  a  bound,  you  blushing  left  me. 

Forget,  forget  that  night's  offence, 

Forgive  it,  if,  alas  !  you  can  ; 
'Twas  love,  'twas  passion  —  soul  and  sense  — 

'Twas  all  that's  best  and  worst  in  man. 

That  moment,  did  th'  assembled  eyes 
Of  heaven  and  earth  my  madness  view, 

I  should  have  seen,  through  earth  and  skies, 
But  you  alone  —  but  only  you. 

Did  not  a  frown  from  you  reprove. 
Myriads  of  eyes  to  me  were  none ; 

Enough  for  me  to  win  your  love, 
And  die  upon  the  spot,  when  won. 


A  DREAM   OF  ANTIQUITY. 

I  JUST  had  turn'd  the  classic  page. 

And  trac'd  that  ha2>py  period  over, 
"When  blest  alike  were  youth  and  age, 
And  love  inspired  the  wisest  sage. 

And  wisdom  graced  the  tenderest  lover. 

Before  I  laid  me  down  to  sleep 
Awhile  I  from  tlie  lattice  gaz'd 


ODES    TO    XEA.  57 

Upon  that  still  and  moonlight  cieep, 

With  isles  like,  floating  gardens  rais'd, 
For  Ai'iel  there  his  sports  to  keep ; 
While,  gliding  'twixt  their  leafy  shores 
The  lone  night-fisher  plied  his  oars. 

I  felt, —  so  strongly  fancy's  power 
Came  o'er  me  in  that  witching  hour,  — 
As  if  the  whole  bright  scenery  there 

Were  hghted  by  a  Grecian  sky, 
And  I  then  breath'd  the  blissful  air 

That  late  had  thrill'd  to  Sappho's  sigh. 

Thus,  waking,  dreamt  I,  —  and  when  Sleep 

Came  o'er  my  sense,  the  dream  went  on  ; 
Nor,  through  her  curtain  dim  and  deep. 

Hath  ever  lovelier  vision  shone. 
I  thought  that,  all  enrapt,  I  stray'd 
Through  that  serene,  luxurious  shade, 
Where  Epicurus  taught  the  Loves 

To  polish  virtue's  native  brightness,  — 
As  pearls,  Ave  're  told,  that  fondling  doves 

Have  play'd  with,  wear  a  smoother  whiteness.* 
'Twas  one  of  those  delicious  nights 

So  common  in  the  climes  of  Greece, 
When  day  withdraws  bu,t  half  its  lights. 

And  all  is  moonshine,  balm,  and  peace. 

*  This  method  of  polishing  pearls,  by  leaving  them  awhile  to 
be  played  with  by  doves,  is  mentioned  by  the  fanciful  Cardanus, 
de  Rermn  Varietat.  lib.  vii.  cap.  34. 


58  POEMS    KF.LATING    TO    AMERICA. 

And  thou  wert  there,  my  own  belov'd, 
And  by  thy  side  I  fondly  rov'd 
Through  many  a  temple's  reverend  gloom, 
And  many  a  bower's  seductive  bloom, 
Where  Beauty  learn'd  what  wisdom  taught, 
And  sages  sigh'd  and  lovers  thought ; 
Where  schoolmen  conn'd  no  maxims  stern, 

But  all  was  form'd  to  soothe  or  move, 
To  make  the  dullest  love  to  learn, 

To  make  the  coldest  learn  to  love. 

And  now  the  fairy  i)athway  seera'd 

To  lead  us  through  enchanted  ground. 
Where  all  that  bard  has  ever  dream'd 

Of  love  or  luxury  bloom'd  around. 
Oh  !  'twas  a  bright,  bewildering  scene  — 
Along  tlie  alley's  deepening  green 
Soft  lamps,  that  hung  like  burning  flowers, 
And  scented  and  illum'd  the  bowers, 
Seem'd,  as  to  him,  who  darkling  roves 
Amid  the  lone  Hercynian  groves, 
Ai)pear  those  countless  birds  of  light, 
That  sparkle  in  tlie  leaves  at  night, 
And  from  their  wings  diffuse  a  ray 
Along  the  traveller's  Aveary  way.* 
'Twas  liglit  of  that  mysterious  kind, 

Through  which  the  soul  perchance  may  roara, 

*  In  Ilercyiiio  Germania;  saltu  inusitata  genera  alitum  ac- 
cepimns,  quarum  pluma:,  ignium  modo,  colluceant  noctibus.  — 
Plin.  lib.  X.  cap.  47. 


ODES    TO    NEA.  59 

"When  it  has  left  this  world  behind, 

And  gone  to  seek  its  heavenly  home. 
And,  Nea,  thou  wert  by  my  side. 
Through  all  this  heav'n-ward  path  my  guide. 

But,  lo,  as  Avand'ring  thus  we  rang'd 
That  upward  path,  the  vision  chang'd ; 
And  now,  methought,  we  stole  along 

Through  halls  of  more  voluptuous  glory 
Than  ever  liv'd  in  Teian  song, 

Or  wanton'd  in  Milesian  story. 
And  nymphs  were  there,  whose  very  eyes 
Seera'd  soften'd  o'er  with  breath  of  sighs  ; 
Whose  ev'ry  ringlet,  as  it  wreath'd, 
A  mute  appeal  to  passion  breath'd. 
Some  flew,  Avith  amber  cups,  around, 

Pouring  the  flowery  wines  of  Crete  ;  * 
And,  as  they  pass'd  with  youthful  bound, 

The  onyx  shone  beneath  their  feet.f 
"While  others,  waving  arms  of  snow 

Entwin'd  by  snakes  of  burnish'd  gold,  * 
And  showing  charms,  as  loth  to  show, 

Through  many  a  thin  Tarentian  fold, . 

*  "  Some  of  the  Cretan  wines,  which  Athenseus  calls  oivog 
av^ioauiac,  from  their  fragrancy  resembling  that  of  the  finest 
flowers."'  — Barry  on  Whies,  chap.  vii. 

t  It  appears  that  in  very  splendid  mansions,  the  floor  or  pave- 
ment was  frequently  of  onyx.  Thus  Martial:  "  Calcatnsque 
tuo  sub  pede  lucet  onyx."     Epig.  50.  lib.  xii. 

{  Bracelets  of  this  shape  were  a  favourite  ornament  among 
the  women  of  antiquity. 


60  POEMS    KELATIXG    TO    AMERICA. 

Glided  among  the  festal  throng 

Bearing  rich  urns  of  flowers  along. 

Where  roses  lay,  in  languor  breathing,       [ing, 

And  the  young  beegrape,*  round  thcni  wreulh- 

llung  on  their  blushes  warm  and  meek, 

Like  curls  upon  a  rosy  cheek. 

Oh,  Nea  !  why  did  morning  break 

The  spell  that  thus  divinely  bound  me? 

"Why  did  I  wake  ?  how  could  I  wake 

AYith  thee  my  own  and  heaven  around  me  ! 


Well  — peace  to  thy  heart,  though  another's  it  be, 
And  health  to  that  cheek,  though  it  bloom  not  for 

me ! 
To-morrow  I  sail  for  those  cinnamon  groves,t 
Where  nightly  the  ghost  of  the  Carribee  roves, 
And,  far  from  the  light  of  those  eyes,  I  may  yet 
Their  allurements  forgive  and  their  splendour  forget. 

Farewell  to  Bermuda,]:  and  long  may  the  bloom 
Of  the  lemon  and  myrtle  its  valleys  perfume ; 

*  Apiana,  mentioned  by  Pliny,  lilj.  xiv.  and  "  now  callod  the 
Muscatell  (a  muscarum  telis),"  says  Pancirollus,  book  i.  sect.  i. 
chap.  17. 

t  I  had,  at  this  time,  some  idea  of  paying  a  visit  to  the  West 
Indies. 

J  Tlie  inhabitants  pronounce  the  name  as  if  it  were  written 
Bermooda.  See  the  commentators  on  the  vords  "still-vex'd 
Bermoothes,"  in  the  Tempest. 


ODES    TO    NEA.  61 

May  spring  to  eternity  hallow  the  shade, 
"Where  Ariel  has  warbled  and  Waller  *  has  stray'd. 
And  thou  —  when,  at  dawn,  thou  shalt  happen  to 
roam  [home, 

Through  the  lime-cover'd  alley  that  leads  to  thy 
"Where  oft,  when  the  dance  and  the  revel  were  done, 
And  the  stars  were  beginning  to  fade  in  the  sun, 
I  have  led  thee  along,  and  have  told  by  the  way 
Whatmy  heart  all  the  night  had  been  burning  to  say — 
Oh  !  think  of  the  past  —  give  a  sigh  to  those  times. 
And  a  blessing  for  me  to  that  alley  of  limes. 


If  I  were  yonder  wave,  my  dear, 
And  thou  the  isle  it  clasps  around, 

I  would  not  let  a  foot  come  near 
My  land  of  bliss,  my  fairy  ground. 

If  I  were  yonder  conch  of  gold, 

And  thou  the  pearl  within  it  plac'd, 

I  would  not  let  an  eye  behold 

The  sacred  gem  my  arms  embrac'd. 

If  I  were  yonder  orange-tree. 

And  thou  the  blossom  blooming  there, 

I  would  not  yield  a  breathe  of  thee 
To  scent  the  most  imploi'ing  air. 

*  Johnson  does  not  think  that  Waller  was  ever  at  Bermuda ; 
but  the  "Account  of  the  European  Settlements  in  America" 
affirms  it  confidently.     (Vol.  ii.) 


62  rOEMS    EELATING    TO    AMERICA. 

Oh !  bend  not  o'er  the  water's  brink, 

Give  not  the  wave  that  odorous  sijih. 
Nor  let  its  burninj^  mirror  drink 

The  soft  reflection  of"  thine  eye. 
t 
That  glossy  hair,  that  glowing  cheek, 

So  pictur'd  in  the  waters  seem. 
That  I  could  gladly  plunge  to  seek 

Thy  image  in  the  glassy  stream. 

Blest  fate  !  at  once  my  chilly  grave 
And  nuptial  bed  that  stream  might  be ; 

I'll  wed  thee  in  its  mimic  wave, 
And  die  upon  the  shade  of  thee. 

Behold  the  leafy  mangrove,  bending 
O'er  the  waters  blue  and  bright, 

Like  Nea's  silky  lashes,  lending 
Shadow  to  her  eyes  of  light. 

Oh,  my  belov'd  !  where'er  I  turn. 

Some  trace  of  thee  enchants  mine  eyes  ; 

In  every  star  thy  glances  burn  ; 
Thy  blush  on  every  flow'ret  lies. 

Nor  find  I  in  creation  aught 
Of  bright,  or  beautiful,  or  rare, 

Sweet  to  the  sense,  or  pure  to  thought, 
But  thou  art  found  reflected  there. 


ODES    TO    NEA.  63 


THE   SNOW   SPIRIT. 

»■ 
No,  ne'er  did  the  wave  in  its  element  steep 

An  island  of  lovelier  charms  ; 
It  blooms  in  the  giant  embrace  of  the  deep, 

Like  Hebe  in  Hercules'  arms. 
The  blush  of  your  bowers  is  light  to  the  eye, 

And  their  melody  balm  to  the  ear  ; 
But  the  fiery  planet  of  day  is  too  nigh, 

And  the  Snow  Spirit  never  comes  here. 

The  down  from  his  wing  is  as  white  as  the  pearl 

That  shines  through  thy  lips  when  they  part, 
And  it  falls  on  the  green  earth  as  melting,  my  girl, 

As  a  murmur  of  thine  on  the  heart. 
Oh !  fly  to  the  clime,  where  he  pillows  the  death, 

As  he  cradles  the  birth  of  the  year  ; 
Bright  are  your  bowers  and  balmy  their  breath, 

But  the  Snow  Spirit  cannot  come  here. 

How  sweet  to  behold  him,  when  borne  on  the  gale, 

And  brightening  the  bosom  of  morn, 
He  flings,  like  the  priest  of  Diana,  a  veil 

O'er  the  brow  of  each  virginal  thorn. 
Yet  think  not  the  veil  he  so  chillingly  casts 

Is  the  veil  of  a  vestal  severe  ; 
No,  no,  thou  wilt  see,  what  a  moment  it  lasts, 

Should  the  Snow  Spirit  ever  come  here. 


G4.  rOKMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA. 

But  fly  to  his  region  —  lay  open  thy  zone, 

And  lie '11  weep  all  his  brilliancy  dim, 
To  think  that  a  bosom,  as  wliite  as  his  own, 

Should  not  melt  in  the  daybeam  like  him. 
Oh  !  lovely  the  print  of  those  delicate  feet 

O'er  his  luminous  path  will  appear  — 
Fly,  my  beloved !  this  island  is  sweet, 

But  the  Snow  Spirit  cannot  come  here. 


Evravda  Se  Ka&upiuaraL  ijfuv.  kui  utc  fiev  ovo/m  ttj  vr]au, 
ovhi  oiHa-  XP'^'^V  ^'  av  rrpog  ye  eftov  ovofiaC,oLTO.  —  rmLosTitAT. 
Icon.  17.  lib.  ii. 

I  STOLE  along  the  flowery  bank, 
While  many  a  bending  seagrape  *  drank 
The  sprinkle  of  the  feathery  oar 
That  wing'd  me  round  this  fairy  shore. 

'Twas  noon  ;  and  every  orange  bud 
Hung  languid  o'er  the  crystal  flood. 
Faint  as  the  lids  of  maiden's  eyes 
AVhen  love-thouglits  in  her  bosom  rise. 
Oh,  for  a  naiad's  sparry  bower, 
To  shade  me  in  that  glowing  hour ! 

A  little  dove,  of  milky  hue, 
Before  me  from  a  plantain  flew, 

•  The  seaside  or  m.ingrove  grape,  a  native  of  the  West  Indies. 


ODES    TO    NEA.  65 

And,  light  along  the  water's  brim, 

I  steer'd  my  gentle  bark  by  him  ; 

For  fancy  told  me,  Love  had  sent 

This  gSntle  bird  with  kind  intent 

To  lead  my  steps,  where  I  should  me^t  — 

I  knew  not  what,  but  something  sweet. 

And  —  bless  the  little  pilot  dove  ! 
He  had  indeed  been  sent  by  Love, 
To  suide  me  to  a  scene  so  dear 
As  fate  allows  but  seldom  here  ; 
One  of  those  rare  and  brilliant  hours, 
That,  like  the  aloe's  *  lingering  flowers, 
May  blossom  to  the  eye  of  man 
But  once  in  all  his  weary  span. 

Just  where  the  margin's  opening  shade 
A  vista  from  the  waters  made. 
My  bird  repos'd  his  silver  plume 
Upon  a  rich  banana's  bloom. 
Oh  vision  bright !  oh  spirit  fair  ! 
What  spell,  what  magic  rais'd  her  there  ? 
'Twas  Nea!  slumbering  calm  and  mild, 
And  bloomy  as  the  dimpled  child, 
Whose  spirit  in  elysium  keeps 
Its  playful  sabbath,  while  he  sleeps. 


*  The  Agave.  This,  I  am  aware,  is  an  erroneous  notion,  but 
it  is  quite  true  enough  for  poetry.  Plato,  I  think,  allows  a  poet 
to  be  "  thre.e  removes  from  truth;  "  rpnarog  uko  tt]^  a?ir/dEia£. 

VOL.    II.  5 


66  POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA. 

Tlie  broad  banana's  groen  embrace 
Ilunj^  shadowy  round  each  tranquil  grace ; 
One  little  beam  alone  could  win 
The  leaves  to  let  it  wander  in, 
And,  stealing  over  all  her  charms. 
From  lip  to  cheek,  from  neck  to  arms, 
New  lustre  to  each  beauty  lent,  — 
Itself  all  trembling  as  it  went ! 

Dark  lay  her  eyelid's  jetty  fringe 
Upon  that  cheek  whose  roseate  tinge 
Mix'd  with  its  shade,  like  evening's  light 
Just  touching  on  the  verge  of  night. 
Her  eyes,  thougli  tluis  in  slumber  hid, 
Seem'd  glowing  through  tlie  ivory  lid, 
And,  as  I  thought,  a  lustre  threw 
Upon  her  lip's  reflecting  dew,  — 
Such  as  a  night-lamp  left  to  shine 
Alone  on  some  secluded  shrine,  «* 

May  shed  upon  the  votive  wreath, 
Which  pious  hands  have  hung  beneath. 

Was  ever  vision  half  so  sweet ! 
Think,  think  how  quick  my  heart-pulse  beat. 
As  o'er  the  rustling  bank  I  stole ;  — 
Oh !  ye,  that  know  the  lover's  soul, 
It  is  for  you  alone  to  guess, 
That  moment's  trembling  happiness. 


ODES    TO    NEA.  67 


A  STUDY  FROM  THE  ANTIQUE, 

Behold,  my  love,  tlie  curious  gem 
Within  this  simple  ring  of  gold ; 

'Tis  hallow'd  by  the  touch  of  them 
Who  liv'd  in  classic  hours  of  old. 

Some  fair  Athenian  girl,  perhaps, 
Upon  her  hand  this  gem  display'd. 

Nor  thought  that  time's  succeeding  lapse 
Should  see  it  grace  a  lovelier  maid. 

Look,  dearest,  what  a  sweet  design ! 

The  more  we  gaze,  it  charms  the  more  ; 
Come  —  closer  bring  that  cheek  to  mine, 

And  trace  with  me  its  beauties  o'er. 

Thou  seest,  it  is  a  simple  youth 

By  some  enamour'd  nymph  embrac'd  — 
Look,  as  she  leans,  and  say  in  sooth 

Is  not  that  hand  most  fondly  plac'd  ? 

Upon  his  curled  head  behind 
It  seems  in  careless  play  to  lie, 

Yet  presses  gently,  half  inclin'd 

To  bring  the  truant's  lip  more  nigh. 

Oh  happy  maid !  too  happy  boy ! 
The  one  so  fond  and  little  loath, 


68  POEMS   RELATING   TO   AMERICA. 

The  other  yielding  slow  to  joy  — 
Oh  rare,  indeed,  but  blissful  both. 

Imagine,  love,  that  I  am  he. 

And  just  as  warm  as  he  is  chilling; 

Imagine,  too,  that  tliou  art  she. 
But  quite  as  coy  as  she  is  willing : 

So  may  we  try  the  graceful  way 

In  which  tlieir  gentle  arms  are  twin'd, 

Aiid  thus,  like  her,  my  hand  I  lay 
Upon  thy  wreathed  locks  behind : 

And  thus  I  feel  thee  breathing  sweet, 
As  slow  to  mine  thy  head  I  move ; 

And  thus  our  lips  together  meet, 

And  thus,  —  and  thus,  —  I  kiss  thee,  love. 


—  2.il3avoT(f)  eiKoaev,  on  aTro?iAv/i€vov  ev(j)paiv£i. 

AiuSTOT.  Rlietor.  lib.  iii.  cap.  4. 

There's  not  a  look,  a  word  of  thine, 

My  soul  hath  e'er  forgot ; 
Thou  ne'er  hast  bid  a  ringlet  shine. 
Nor  giv'n  thy  locks  one  graceful  twine 

Which  I  remember  not. 

There  never  yet  a  murmur  fell 
From  that  beguiling  tongue, 


ODES    TO    NEA.  G9 

Which  did  not,  with  a  lingering  spell, 
Upon  my  charmed  senses  dwell. 
Like  songs  from  Eden  sung. 

Ah !  that  I  could,  at  once,  forget 

All,  all  that  haunts  me  so  — 
And  yet,  thou  witching  girl,  —  and  yet, 
To  die  were  sweeter  than  to  let 

The  lov'd  remembrance  go. 

No  ;  if  this  slighted  heart  must  see 

Its  faithful  pulse  decay. 
Oh  let  it  die,  remembering  thee, 
And,  like  the  burnt  aroma,  be 

Consum'd  in  sweets  away. 


70  POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA. 


TO   JOSEPH  ATKINSON,  ESQ. 


FROM  BERMUDA. 


"  The  daylight  is  gone  —  but,  before  we  depart, 
"  One  cup  shall  go  round  to  the  friend  of  my  heart, 
"  The  kindest,  the  dearest  —  oh !  judge  by  the  tear 
"  I  now  shed  while  I  name  him,  how  kind  and  how 
dear." 

'Twas  thus  in  the  shade  of  the  Calabash-Tree, 
With  a  few,  who  could  feel  and  remember  like  me. 
The  charm  that,  to  sweeten  my  goblet,  I  threw, 
Was  a  sigh  to  the  past  and  a  blessing  on  you. 

Oh !  say,  is  it  thus,  in  the  mirth-bringing  hour. 
When  friends  are  assembled,  when  wit,  in  full  flower, 
Shoots  forth  from  the  lip,  under  Bacchus's  dew, 
In  blossoms  of  thought  ever  springing  and  new  — 
Do  you  sometimes  remember,  and  hallow  the  brim 
Of  your  cup  with  a  sigh,  as  you  crown  it  to  him 
Who  is  lonely  and  sad  in  these  valleys  so  fair, 
And  would   pine   in    elysium,  if  friends  were   not 
there ! 

Last  night,  when  we  came  from  the  Calabash-Tree, 
When  my  Umbs  were  at  rest  and  my  spirit  was  free, 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  71 

The  glow  of  the  grape  and  the  dreams  of  the  day 
Set  the  magical  springs  of  my  fancy  in  play, 
And  oh,  —  such  a  vision  as  haunted  me  then 
I  would  slumber  for  ages  to  witness  again. 
The  many  I  like,  and  the  few  I  adore. 
The  friends  who  were  dear  and  beloved  before, 
_  Bnt  never  till  now  so  beloved  and  dear, 
At  the  call  of  my  Fancy,  surrounded  me  here ; 
And  soon,  —  oh,  at  once,  did  the  light  of  their  smiles 
To  a  paradise  brighten  this  region  of  isles  ; 
More  lucid  the  wave,  as  they  look'd  on  it,  flow'd, 
And  brighter  the  rose,  as  they  gather'd  it,  glow'd. 
Not  the  valleys  Hertean  (though  water'd  by  rills 
Of  the  pearliest  flow,  from  those  pastoral  hills,* 
"Where   the   Song  of  the    Shepherd,  primeval   and 

wild, 
"Was  taught  to  the  nymphs  by  their  mystical  child), 
Could  boast  such  a  lustre  o'er  land  and  o'er  wave 
As  the  magic  of  love  to  this  paradise  gave. 

Oh  magic  of  love !  unembellish'd  by  you. 
Hath  the  garden  a  blush  or  the  landscape  a  hue  ? 
Or  shines  there  a  vista  in  nature  or  art,  [heart? 

Like   that  which    Love  opes   thro'  the  eye  to   the 

Alas,  that  a  vision  so  happy  should  fade ! 
That,  when  morning  around  me  in  brilliancy  play'd, 

*  Mountains  of  Sicily,  upon  which  Daphnis,  the  first  inventor 
of  bucolic  poetry,  was  nursed  by  the  nymphs.  See  the  lively 
description  of  these  mountains  in  Diodorus  Siculus,  lib.  iv. 


72  POEMS    RELATING   TO    AMERICA. 

The  rose  and  the  stream  I  had  thought  of  at  night 
Should  still  be  before  me,  unfadingly  bright ; 
AVliile  the  friends,  who  had  seem'd  to  hang  over  the 

stream, 
And  to  gather  the  roses,  had  fled  with  my  dream. 

But  look,  where,  all  ready,  in  sailing  array, 
The  bark  that 's  to  carry  these  pages  away,* 
Impatiently  flutters  her  wing  to  the  wind, 
And  will  soon  leave  these  islets  of  Ariel  behind. 
What  billows,  what  gales  is  she  fated  to  prove, 
Ere  she  sleep  in  the  lee  of  the  land  that  I  love  ! 
Yet  pleasant  the  swell  of  the  billows  would  be. 
And  the  roar  of  those  gales  would  be  music  to  me. 
Not  the  tranquillest  air  that  the  winds  ever  blew, 
Not  the  sunniest  tears  of  the  summer-eve  dew. 
Were  as  sweet  as  the  storm,  or  as   bright  as  the 

foam 
Of  the  surge,  that  would  hurry  your  wanderer  home. 

*  A  ship,  ready  to  sail  for  England. 


POEMS   RELATING   TO   AMERICA.  73 


THE   STEERSMAN'S    SONG, 

WRITTEN  ABOARD   THE  BOSTON  FRIGATE  28TH   APRIL. 

When  freshly  blows  tlie  northern  gale, 

And  under  courses  snug  we  fly ; 
Or  when  light  breezes  swell  the  sail, 

And  royals  proudly  sweep  the  sky  ; 
'Longside  the  wheel,  unwearied  still 

I  stand,  and,  as  my  watchful  eye 
Doth  mark  the  needle's  foithful  thrill, 

I  think  of  her  I  love,  and  cry. 

Port,  my  boy  !  port. 

When  calms  delay,  or  breezes  blow 

Right  from  the  point  we  wish  to  steer ; 
When  by  the  wind  close-haul'd  we  go. 

And  strive  in  vain  the  port  to  near ; 
I  think  'tis  thus  the  fates  defer 

My  bliss  with  one  that's  far  away. 
And  while  remembrance  springs  to  her, 

I  watch  the  sails  and  sighing  say. 

Thus,  my  boy  !  thus. 

But  see  the  wind  draws  kindly  aft. 
All  hands  are  up  the  yards  to  square. 

And  now  the  floating  stu'n-sails  waft 

Our  stately  ship  through  waves  and  air. 


74  POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA. 

Oh  !  then  I  think  that  yet  for  me 

Some  breeze^  of  fortune  thus  may  sprin"', 

Some  breeze  to  waft  me,  love,  to  thee  — 
And  in  that  hope  I  smiling  sing, 

Steady,  boy  !  so. 


TO   THE   FIRE-FLY. 

At  morning,  when  the  earth  and  sky 
Are  glowing  with  tlie  light  of  spring, 

"We  see  thee  not,  thou  humble  fly ! 
Nor  think  upon  thy  gleaming  wing. 

But  when  the  skies  have  lost  their  hue. 
And  sunny  lights  no  longer  play. 

Oh  then  we  see  and  bless  thee  too 
For  sparkling  o'er  the  dreary  way. 

Thus  let  me  hope,  when  lost  to  me 
The  lights  that  now  my  life  illume, 

Some  milder  joys  may  come,  like  thee, 
To  cheer,  if  not  to  Avarm,  the  gloom ! 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  75 

TO  THE  LORD  VISCOUNT  FORBES. 

FROM  THE   CITY   OF  WASHINGTON. 

If  former  times  had  never  left  a  trace 

Of  human  fraihy  in  their  onward  race, 

Nor  o'er  their  pathway  written,  as  they  ran, 

One  dark  memorial  of  the  crimes  of  man ; 

If  every  age,  in  new  unconscious  prime. 

Rose,  like  a  phenix,  from  the  fires  of  time, 

To  wing  its  way  unguided  and  alone. 

The  future  smihng  and  the  past  unknown ; 

Then  ardent  man  would  to  himself  be  new, 

Earth  at  his  foot  and  heaven  within  his  view : 

Well  might  the  novice  hope,  the  sanguine  scheme 

Of  full  perfection  prompt  his  daring  dream, 

Ere  cold  experience,  with  her  veteran  lore, 

Could  tell  him,  fools  had  dreamt  as  much  before. 

But,  tracing  as  we  do,  through  age  and  clime, 

The  plans  of  virtue  midst  the  deeds  of  crime, 

The  thinking  follies  and  the  reasoning  rage 

Of  man,  at  once  the  idiot  and  the  sage ; 

When  still  we  see,  through  every  varying  frame 

Of  arts  and  polity,  his  course  the  same. 

And  know  that  ancient  fools  but  died,  to  make 

A  space  on  earth  for  modern  fools  to  take ; 

'T  is  strange,  how  quickly  we  the  past  forget ; 

That  Wisdom's  self  should  not  be  tutor'd  yet. 


76  POEMS    KELATING    TO    AMERICA. 

Nor  tire  of  watching  for  the  monstrous  birth 
Of  pure  jjcrfection  midst  the  sons  of  earth ! 

Oh  !  nothing  but  that  soul  which  God  has  given, 
Could  lead  us  thus  to  look  on  earth  for  heaven  ; 
O'er  dross  without  to  shed  the  light  within, 
And  dream  of  virtue  while  we  see  but  sin. 

Even  here,  beside  the  proud  Potomac's  stream, 
Might  sages  still  pursue  the  flattering  theme 
Of  days  to  come,  when  man  shall  conquer  fate, 
Rise  o'er  the  level  of  his  mortal  state. 
Belie  the  monuments  of  frailty  past, 
And  plant  perfection  in  this  world  at  last ! 
"Here,"  might  they  say,  "shall  power's  divided  reign 
"  Evince  that  patriots  have  not  bled  in  vain. 
"  Here  godlike  liberty's  herculean  youth, 
"  Cradled  in  peace,  and  nurtur'd  up  by  truth 
"  To  full  maturity  of  nerve  and  mind, 
"  Shall  crush  the  giants  that  bestride  mankind.* 
"  Here  shall  religion's  pure  and  balmy  draught 
"  In  form  no  more  from  cups  of  state  be  quatTd, 


*  Thus  Morse.  "  Here  the  sciences  and  the  arts  of  civilized 
life  are  to  receive  their  highest  improvements:  here  civil  and 
religious  liberty  are  to  flourish,  unchecked  by  the  cruel  hand 
of  civil  or  ecclesiastical  tyranny:  here  genius,  aided  by  all  the 
improvements  of  former  ages,  is  to  be  exerted  in  humanizing 
mankind,  in  expanding  and  enriching  their  minds  with  religious 
and  philosophical  knowledge,"  etc.  etc.  —  P.  669. 


POEMS    RELATING  #0    AMERICA.  77 

«  But  flow  for  all,  through  nation,  rank,  and  sect, 
"  Free  as  that  heaven  its  tranquil  waves  reflect. 
«  Around  the  columns  of  the  public  shrine 
«  Shall  growing  arts  their  gradual  wreath  intwine, 
"  Nor  breathe  corruption  from  the  flowering  braid, 
"  Nor  mine  that  fabric  which  they  bloom  to  shade. 
"  No  longer  here  shall  Justice  bound  her  view, 
«  Or  wrong  the  many,  while  she  rights  the  few ; 
"  But  take  her  range  through  all  the  social  frame, 
"  Pure  and  pervading  as  that  vital  flame 
"  "Which  warms  at  once  our  best  and  meanest  part, 
«  And  thrills  a  hair  while  it  expands  a  heart ! " 

* 
Oh  golden  dream  !  what  soul  that  loves  to  scan 

The  bright  disk  rather  than  the  dark  of  man. 

That  owns  the  good,  while  smarting  with  the  ill, 

And  loves  the  world  with  all  its  frailty  still,  — 

What  ardent  bosom  does  not  spring  to  meet 

The  generous  hope,  with  all  that  heavenly  heat, 

Which  makes  the  soul  unwilling  to  resign 

The  thoughts  of  growing,  even  on  earth,  divine ! 

Yes,  dearest  friend,  I  see  thee  glow  to  think 

The  chain  of  ages  yet  may  boast  a  link 

Of  purer  texture  than  the  world  has  known, 

And  fit  to  bind  us  to  a  Godhead's  throne. 

r 

But,  is  it  thus  ?  doth  even  the  glorious  dream 
Borrow  from  truth  that  dim,  uncertain  gleam. 
Which  tempts  us  still  to  give  such  fancies  scope, 
As  shock  not  reason,  while  they  nourish  hope  ? 


78  POEMS  ki:la§ing  to  a.mkkica. 

No,  no,  believe  me,  'tis  not  so  —  cv'n  now, 
"While  yet  upon  Columbia's  rising  brow 
The  siiowy  smile  of  young  presiunptiun  plays, 
Her  bloom  is  poison'd  and  her  heart  decays. 
Even  now,  in  dawn  of  life,  her  sickly  breath 
Burns  with  the  taint  of  empires  near  their  death  ; 
And,  like  the  nymphs  of  her  own  withering  clime, 
She's  old  in  youth,  she's  blasted  in  her  prime. 

Already  has  the  child  of  Gallia's  school 
The  foul  Philosophy  that  sins  by  rule. 
With  all  her  train  of  reasoning,  damning  arts, 
Begot  by  brilliant  heads  on  worthless  hearts. 
Like  things  that  quicken  after  Nilus'  flood. 
The  venom'd  birth  of  sunshine  and  of  mud,  — 
Already  has  she  pour'd  her  poison  here 
O'er  every  charm  that  makes  existence  dear ; 
Already  blighted,  with  her  blackening  trace. 
The  opening  bloom  of  every  social  grace, 
And  all  those  courtesies,  that  love  to  shoot 
Round  virtue's  stem,  the  flow'rets  of  her  fruit. 

And,  were  these  errors  but  the  wanton  tide 
Of  young  luxuriance  or  unchasten'd  pride  ; 
The  fervid  follies  and  the  faults  of  such 
As  wrongly  feel,  because  they  feel  too  much ; 
Then  might  experience  make  the  fever  less. 
Nay,  graft  a  virtue  on  each  warm  excess. 
But  no;  'tis  heartless,  speculative  ill, 
All  youth's  transgression  with  all  age's  chill ; 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  79 

The  apathy  of  wrong,  the  bosom's  ice, 
A  slow  and  cold  stagnation  into  vice. 

Long  has  the  love  of  gold,  that  meanest  rage, 
And  latest  folly  of  man's  sinking  age, 
Which,  rarely  venturing  in  the  van  of  life. 
While  nobler  passions  wage  then*  heated  strife, 
Comes  skulking  last,  with  selfishness  and  fear, 
And  dies,  collecting  lumber  in  the  rear, — 
Long  has  it  palsied  every  grasping  hand 
And  greedy  spirit  thrgugh  this  bartering  land ; 
Turn'd  life  to  traffic,  set  the  demon  gold 
So  loose  abroad  that  virtue's  self  is  sold. 
And  conscience,  truth,  and  honesty  are  made 
To  rise  and  fall,  like  other  wares  of  trade.* 

Already  in  this  free,  this  virtuous  state. 
Which,  Frenchmen  tell  us,  was  ordain'd  by  fate, 
To  show  the  world,  what  high  perfection  springs 
From  rabble  senators,  and  merchant  kings,  — 
Even  here  already  patriots  learn  to  steal 
Their  private  perquisites  from  public  W'eal, 
And,  guardians  of  the  country's  sacred  fire, 
Like  Afric's  priests,  let  out  the  flame  for  hire. 
Those  vaunted  demagogues,  who  nobly  rose 
From  England's  debtors  to  be  England's  foes,t 

*  "  Nous  voyons  que,  dans  les  pays  ou  Ton  n'est  affecte  que 
de  I'esprit  de  commerce,  on  trafique  de  toutes  les  actions  hu- 
maines  et  de  toutes  les  vertus  morales."  —  Montesquieu,  de 
V Esprit  des  Lois,  liv.  xx.  chap.  2. 

t  I  trust  I  shall  not  be  suspected  of  a  wish  to  justify  those 


80  POEMS    KELATIXG    TO    AMERICA. 

Who  could  their  monarch  in  their  purse  forget, 
And  break  allegiance,  but  to  cancel  debt,* 
Have  prov'd  at  length,  the  mineral's  tempting  hue, 
Which  makes  a  pati'iot,  can  unmake  him  too.f 
Oh !  Freedom,  Freedom,  how  I  hate  thy  cant ! 
Not  Eastern  bombast,  not  the  savage  rant 
Of  purpled  madmen,  were  they  number'd  all 
From  Roman  Nero  down  to  Russian  Paul, 
Could  grate  upon  my  ear  so  mean,  so  base, 
As  the  rank  jargon  of  that  tactions  race. 
Who,  poor  of  heart  and  prodigal  of  words, 
Form'd  to  be  slaves,  yet  struggling  to  be  lords, 
Strut  forth,  as  patriots,  from  their  negro-marts, 
And  shout  for  rights,  with  rapine  in  their  hearts. 

Who  can,  with  patience,  for  a  moment  see 
The  medley  mass  of  pride  and  misery, 

arbitrary  steps  of  the  English  government  which  the  colonies 
found  it  so  necessary  to  resist;  my  only  object  here  is  to  expose 
the  selfish  motives  of  some  of  the  leading  American  demagogues. 

*  The  most  persevering  enemy  to  the  interests  of  this  country, 
amongst  the  politicians  of  the  western  world,  has  been  a  Vir 
ginian  merchant,  who,  finding  it  easier  to  settle  his  conscience 
than  his  debts,  was  one  of  the  first  to  raise  the  standard  against 
Great  Britain,  and  has  ever  since  endeavoured  to  revenge  upon 
the  whole  country  the  obligations  which  he  lies  under  to  a  few 
of  its  merchants. 

t  See  Porcupine's  account  of  the  Pennsylvania  Insurrection 
in  1794.  In  short,  see  Porcupine's  works  throughout,  Ibr  ample 
corroboration  of  every  sentiment  which  I  have  ventured  to  ex- 
press. In  saying  this,  I  refer  less  to  the  comments  of  that  writer 
than  to  the  occurrences  which  he  has  related  and  the  documents 
which  he  has  preserved.  Opinion  may  be  suspected  of  bias, 
but  facts  speak  for  themselves. 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  81 

Of  whips  and  charters,  manacles  and  rights, 

Of  slaving  blacks  and  democratic  whites, 

And  all  the  piebald  polity  that  reigns 

In  free  confusion  o'er  Columbia's  plains  ? 

To  think  that  man,  thou  just  and  gentle  God ! 

Should  stand  before  thee  with  a  tyrant's  rod 

O'er  creatures  like  himself,  with  souls  from  thee, 

Yet  dare  to  boast  of  perfect  liberty ; 

Away,  away  —  I'd  rather  hold  my  neck 

By  doubtful  tenure  from  a  sultan's  beck, 

In  climes,  where  liberty  has  scarce  been  nam'd, 

Nor  any  right  but  that  of  ruling  claim'd, 

Than  thus  to  liv6,  where  bastard  Freedom  waves 

Her  fustian  flag  in  mockery  over  slaves ; 

"Where  —  motley  laws  admitting  no  degree 

Betwixt  the  vilely  slav'd  and  madly  free  — 

Alike  the  bondage  and  the  licenGe  suit 

The  brute  made  ruler  and  the  man  made  brute. 

But,  while  I  thus,  my  friend,  in  flowerless  song, 
So  feebly  paint,  what  yet  I  feel  so  strong, 
The  ills,  the  vices  of  the  land,  where  first 
Those  rebel  fiends,  that  rack  the  world,  were  nurst. 
Where  treason's  arm  by  royalty  was  nerv'd. 
And  Frenchmen  learn'd  to  crush  the  throne  they 

serv'd  — 
Thou,  calmly  luU'd  in  dreams  of  classic  thought. 
By  bards  illumin'd  and  by  sages  taught, 
Pant'st  to  be  all,  upon  this  mortal  scene. 
That  bard  hath  fancied  or  that  sage  hath  been. 

VOL.  II.  6 


82  POEMS    RELATIXCr    TO    AMERICA. 

"Why  sliould  I  wake  thee  ?  why  severely  chase 
The  lovely  forms  of  vh-tue  and  of  grace, 
That  dwell  before  thee,  like  tlie  pictures  spread 
By  Spartan  matrons  round  the  genial  bed, 
]Moulding  thy  ftmcy,  and  with  gradual  art 
Brightening  the  young  conceptions  of  thy  heart. 

Forgive  me,  Forbes  —  and  should  the  song  de- 
stroy 
One  generous  hope,  one  throb  of  social  joy, 
One  high  pulsation  of  the  zeal  for  man. 
Which  few  can  feel,  and  bless  that  few  who  can,  — 
Oh !  turn  to  him,  beneath  whose  kindred  eyes 
Thy  talents  open  and  thy  virtues  rise, 
Forjret  where  nature  has  been  dark  or  dim, 
And  proudly  study  all  her  lights  in  him. 
Yes,  yes,  in  him  the  erring  world  forget. 
And  feel  that  man  may  reach  perfection  yet. 


TO   THOMAS  HUME,  ESQ.,  M.  B. 

FROM  THE   CITY   OF    WASHINGTOK. 

AiTjyrjm/xat.  diTjyrj/iaTa  laug  amara.  Koivuva  uv  Tzsnov&a  ovk  exfJiv. 

Xenophont.  EphiS.  Ephesiar.  lib.  v. 

'T  IS  evening  now ;  beneath  the  western  star 
Soft  sighs  the  lover  through  his  sweet  segar, 
And  fills  the  ears  of  some  consenting  she 
With  puffs  and  vows,  with  smoke  and  constancy. 


POliMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  83 

liie  patriot,  fresh  from  Freedom's  councils  come, 
Now  pleas'd  retires  to  lash  his  slaves  at  home ; 
Or  woo,  perhaps,  some  black  Aspasia's  charms, 
And  dream  of  freedom  in  his  bondsmaid's  arms. 

In  fancy  now,  beneath  the  twilight  gloom, 
Come,  let  me  lead  thee  o'er  this  "  second  Rome  !  "  * 
Where  tribunes  rule,  where  dusky  Davi  bow. 
And  what  Avas  Goose-Creek  once  is  Tiber  now :  —  f 
This  embryo  capital,  where  Fancy  sees 
Squares  in  morasses,  obelisks  in  trees ; 
Which  second-sighted  seers,  ev'n  now,  adorn 
With  shrines  unbuilt  and  heroes  yet  unborn, 
Though  nought  but  woods  and  Jefferson  they  see, 
Where  streets  should  run  and  sages  ought  to  be. 

And  look,  how  calmly  in  yon  radiant  wave, 
The  dying  sun  prepares  his  golden  grave. 
Oh  mighty  river !  oh  ye  banks  of  shade  ! 
Ye  matchless  scenes,  in  nature's  morning  made. 
While  still,  in  all  th'  exuberance  of  pi-ime. 
She  pour'd  her  wonders,  lavishly  sublime, 

*  "  On  the  original  location  of  the  ground  now  allotted  for  the 
seat  of  the  Federal  City  (says  Mr.  Weld),  the  identical  spot  on 
which  the  capitol  now  stands  was  called  Rome.  This  anecdote 
is  related  by  many  as  a  certain  prognostic  of  the  future  mag- 
nificence of  this  city,  which  is  to  be,  as  it  were,  a  second  Rome." 
—  Weld's  Travels,  letter  iv. 

t  A  little  stream  runs  through  the  city,  which,  with  intoler- 
able aftectation,  they  have  styled  the  Tiber.  It  was  originally 
called  Goose-Creek. 


84       POEMS  RELATING  TO  AMEUICA. 

Nor  yet  had  learn'd  to  stoop,  witli  humbler  care, 

Frcai  grand  to  soft,  from  wonderful  to  ihh-  ;  — 

Say,  were  your  towering  hills,  your  boundless  flood? 

Your  rich  savannas  and  majestic  woods, 

Where  bards  should  meditate  and  heroes  rove, 

And  woman  charm,  and  man  deserve  her  love,  — 

Oh  say,  was  world  so  bright,  but  born  to  grace 

Its  own  half-organized,  half-minded  race  * 

Of  weak  barbarians,  swarming  o'er  its  breast, 

Like  vermin  gcnder'd  on  the  lion's  crest  ? 

"Were  none  but  brutes  to  call  that  soil  their  home, 

Where  none  but  demigods  should  dare  to  roam  ? 

Or  worse,  thou  wondrous  world  !  oh  !  doubly  worse, 

Did  heaven  design  thy  lordly  land  to  nurse 

The  motley  dregs  of  every  distant  clime, 

Each  blast  of  anarchy  and  taint  of  crime 

Which  Europe  shakes  from  her  perturbed  sphere, 

In  full  malignity  to  rankle  here  ? 

But  hold,  —  observe  yon  little  mount  of  pines. 
Where  the  breeze  murmurs  and  the  fire-fly  shines. 
There  let  thy  fancy  raise,  in  bold  relief. 
The  sculptur'd  image  of  that  veteran  chief  t 


*  The  picture  which  Buffon  and  De  Pauw  have  drawn  of  the 
American  Indian,  though  very  humiliating,  is,  as  Air  as  I  can 
judge,  much  more  correct  than  the  llattering  representations 
•which  Jlr.  Jefferson  has  given  us. 

t  On  a  small  hill  near  the  capitol  there  is  to  be  an  equestrian 
statue  of  General  Washington. 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  85 

VTho  lost  the  rebel's  in  the  hero's  name, 
And  climb'd  o'er  prostrate  loyalty  to  fame  ; 
Beneath  whose  sword  Columbia's  patriot  train 
Cast  off  their  monarch,  that  their  mob  might  reign- 

IIow  shall  we  rank  thee  upon  glory's  page  ? 
Thou  more  tlian  soldier  and  just  less  than  sage  ! 
Of  peace  too  fond  to  act  the  conqueror's  part, 
Too  long  in  camps  to  learn  a  statesman's  art, 
Nature  design'd  thee  for  a  hero's  mould. 
But,  ere  she  cast  thee,  let  the  stuff  grow  cold. 

While  loftier  souls  command,  nay,  make  their  fate, 
Thy  fate  made  thee  and  forc'd  thee  to  be  great. 
Yet  Fortune,  who  so  oft,  so  blindly~sheds 
Her  brightest  halo  round  the  weakest  heads, 
Found  thee  undazzled,  tranquil  as  befoi'e, 
Proud  to  be  useful,  scorning  to  be  more ; 
Less  mov'd  by  glory's  than  by  duty's  claim, 
Reriown  the  meed,  but  self-applause  the  aim ; 
All  that  thou  ivert  reflects  less  fame  on  thee, 
Far  less,  than  all  thou  didst  forbear  to  be. 
Nor  yet  the  patriot  of  one  land  alone,  — 
For,  thine 's  a  name  all  nations  claim  their  own  ; 
And  every  shore,  where  breath'd  the  cood  and  brave, 
Echo'd  the  plaudits  thy  own  country  gave. 

Now  look,  my  friend,  where  faint  the  moonlight 
falls 
On  yonder  dome,  and,  in  those  princely  halls,  — 


86   '  POEMS    RELATING   TO    AMERICA. 

If  thou  canst  hate,  as  sure  that  soul  must  hate, 
Which  loves  the  virtuous,  and  reveres  the  great,  — 
If  thou  canst  loathe  and  execrate  with  me 
The  poisonous  drug  of  French  pliilosophy, 
That  nauseous  slaver  of  these  frantic  times, 
"With  wliich  false  liberty  dilutes  her  crimes, — 
If  thou  hast  got,  within  thy  freeborn  breast, 
One  pulse  that  beats  more  proudly  than  the  rest, 
"With  honest  scorn  for  that  inglorious  soul. 
Which  creeps  and  winds  beneath  a  mob's  control, 
Which  courts  the  rabble's  smile,  the  rabble's  nod, 
And  makes,  like  Egypt,  every  beast  its  god. 
There,  in  those  walls  —  but,  burning  tongue,  forbear! 
Rank  must  be  reverenc'd,  even  the  rank  that's  there  : 
So  here  I  pause  —  and  now,  dear  Hume,  we  part : 
But  oft  again,  in  frank  exchange  of  heart, 
Thus  let  us  meet,  and  mingle  converse  dear 
By  Tiiames  at  home,  or  by  Potomac  here. 
O'er  lake  and  marsh,  through  fevers  and  through  fogs. 
Midst  b(!ars  and  yankees,  democrats  and  frogs, 
Thy  foot  shall  follow  me,  thy  heart  and  eyes 
With  me  sliall  wonder,  and  Avith  me  despise. 
Wh'le  I,  as  oft,  in  fancy's  dream  sliall  rove, 
With  thee  conversing,  through  that  land  I  love, 
Where,  like  the  air  that  ftms  her  fields  of  green. 
Her  freedom  spreads,  unfever'd  and  serene  ; 
And  sovereign  man  can  condescend  to  see 
The  throne  and  laws  more  sovereign  still  than  he. 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  87 


I 


LINES  WRITTEN  ON  LEAVING  PHILADELPHIA 

TTjvSe  Ti]v  ■KoTuv  (bCkuq 

EiiTTuv  ETva^ia  yap. 

SoPHOCL.  (Edip.  Colon,  v.  758. 

Alone  by  the  Schuylkill  a  wanderer  rov'd, 
And  bright  were  its  flowery  banks  to  his  eye ; 

But  far,  very  far  were  the  friends  that  he  lov'd, 
And  he  gaz'd  on  its  flowery  banks  with  a  sigh. 

Oh  Nature,  though  blessed  and  bright  are  thy  rays, 
O'er  the  brow  of  creation  enchantingly  thrown, 

Yet  faint  are  they  all  to  the  lustre  that  plays 

In  a  smile  from  the  heart  that  is  fondly  our  own. 

Nor  long  did  the  soul  of  the  stranger  remain 

Unblest  by  the  smile  he  had  languish'd  to  meet ; 

Though  scarce    did  he   hope  it  would  soothe  him 

again,  [feet. 

Till  the  threshold  of  home  had  been  pjest  by  his 

But  the  lays  of  his  boyhood  had  stol'n  to  their  ear, 
And  they  lov'd  what  they  knew  of  so  humble  a 
name ; 
And  they  told  him,  Avith  flattery  welcome  and  dear. 
That  they  found    in  his    heart  something  better 
than  fame. 


88  POEMS   RELATING   TO   AMERICA. 

Nor    did    woman  —  oh    woman!  whose    form    and 
whose  soul 
Are  the  spell  and  the  light  of  each  path  we  pur- 
sue ; 
Whether  sunn'd  in  the  tropics  or  chill'd  at  the  pole, 
If  woman  be  there,  there  is  happiness  too :  — 

Nor  did  she  her  enamouring  magic  deny,  — 

That  magic  his  heart  had  relinquish'd  so  long,  — 

Like  eyes  he  had  lov'd  was  her  eloquent  eye, 
Like  them  did  it  soften  and  weep  at  his  song. 

Oh,  blest  be  the  tear,  and  in  memory  oft 

May   its    sparkle    be    shed   o'er    the  wanderer's 
dream  ; 

Thrice  blest  be  that  eye,  and  may  passion  as  soft. 
As  free  from  a  ptyig,  ever  mellow  its  beam ! 

The  stranger  is  gone  —  but  he  will  not  forget. 

When  at  home  he  shall  talk  of  the  toils  he  has 
known, 

To  tell,  with  a  sigh,  what  endearments  he  met. 
As  he  st^'ay'd  by  the  wave  of  the  Schuylkill  alone. 


POEMS    RELATIlfG    TO    AMERICA.  89 


LINES   WRITTEN  AT   THE   COHOS,   OR  FALLS 
OF   THE  MOHAWK  RIVER* 

6ia  era  in  loco  ove  s'  udia  '1  rimbombo 

Dell'  acqua .  Daste. 

From  rise  of  morn  till  set  of  sun 

I've  seen  the  mighty  Mohawk  run  ; 

And  as  I  mark'd  the  woods  of  pine 

Along  his  min-or  darkly  shine, 

Like  tall  and  gloomy  forms  that  pass 

Before  the  wizard's  midnight  glass ; 

And  as  I  view'd  the  hurrying  pace 

With  which  he  ran  his  turbid  race, 

Rushing,  alike  untir'd  and  wild, 

Through  shades  that  frown'd  and  flowers  that 

smil'd. 
Flying  by  every  green  recess 
That  woo'd  him  to  its  calm  caress, 

*  There  is  a  drearj'  and  savage  character  in  the  country  im- 
mediately about  these  Falls,  which  is  much  more  in  harmony 
with  the  wildness  of  such  a  scene  than  the  cultivated  lands  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Niagara.  See  the  drawing  of  them  in  Mr. 
Weld's  book.  According  to  him,  the  perpendicular  height  of 
the  Cohos  Fall  is  fifty  feet;  but  the  Marquis  de  Chastellux 
makes  it  seventy-six. 

The  fine  rainbow,  which  is  continually  forming  and  dissolving, 
as  the  spray  rises  into  the  light  of  the  sun,  is  perhaps  the  most 
interesting  beauty  which  these  wonderful  cataracts  exhibit. 


90  POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA. 

Yet,  sometimes  turning  with  the  wind, 
As  if  to  leave  one  look  behind,  — 
Oft  have  I  thought,  and  thinking  sigh'd, 
ITow  like  to  thee,  thou  restless  title, 
jNIay  be  the  lot,  the  life  of  him 
AViio  roams  along  thy  water's  brim  ; 
Through  what  alternate  wastes  of  woe 
And  flowers  of  joy  my  path  may  go ; 
How  many  a  shelter'd,  calm  retreat 
INIay  woo  the  while  my  weary  feet, 
"While  still  pursuing,  still  unblest, 
I  Avander  on,  nor  dare  to  rest ; 
But,  urgent  as  the  doom  that  calls 
Thy  water  to  its  destin'd  falls, 
I  feel  the  world's  bewildering  force 
Hurry  my  heart's  devoted  course 
From  lapse  to  lapse,  till  life  be  done, 
And  the  spent  current  cease  to  run. 

One  only  prayer  I  dare  to  make, 
As  onward  thus  my  course  I  take ;  — 
Oh,  be  my  falls  as  bright  as  thine ! 
May  heaven's  relenting  rainbow  shine 
Upon  the  mist  that  circles  me, 
As  soft  as  now'  it  hangs  o'er  thee  ! 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  91 


SOXG  OF   THE  EVIL  SPIRIT  OF   THE  WOODS.* 

Qua  yia  difficilis,  qua(iue  est  via  nulla. 

Otid.  Metam.  lib.  iii.  v.  227. 

Now  the  vapour,  hot  and  damp, 
Shed  by  day's  expiring  lamp, 
Through  the  misty  ether  spreads 
E^'ery  ill  the  white  man  dreads  ; 
Fiery  fever's  thu'sty  thrill. 
Fitful  ague's  shivering  chill ! 

Hark  !  I  hear  the  traveller's  song, 
As  he  winds  the  woods  along ;  — 
Christian,  't  is  the  song  of  fear ; 
"Wolves  are  round  thee,  night  is  near, 
And  the  wild  thou  dar'st  to  roam  — 
Think,  'twas  once  the  Indian's  home !  f 

*  The  idea  of  this  poem  occurred  to  me  in  passing  throngh  the 
very  dreary  wilderness  between  Batavia,  a  new  settlement  in 
the  midst  of  the  woods,  and  the  little  village  of  Buffalo  upon 
Lake  Erie.  This  is  the  most  fatiguing  part  of  the  route,  in 
travelling  through  the  Genesee  countrj-  to  Niagara. 

t  "  The  Five  Confederated  'Nations  (of  Indians)  were  settled 
along  the  banks  of  the  Susquehannah  and  the  adjacent  country, 
until  the  year  1779,  when  General  Sullivan,  with  an  arm_v  of 
4,000  men,  drove  them  from  their  country  to  Niagara,  where, 
being  obliged  to  live  on  salted  provisions,  to  which  they  were 
unaccustomed,  great  numbers  of  them  died.  Two  hundred  of 
them,  it  is  said,  were  buried  in  one  grave,  where  they  had  ea- 
camped."  —  Morse's  American  Geography. 


92  POEMS   RELATING    TO    AMERICA. 

Hither,  sprites,  who  love  to  liavm, 
Wheresoe'er  you  work  your  charm, 
By  the  creeks,  or  by  the  brakes. 
Where  the  pale  witch  feeds  her  snakes, 
And  the  cayman  loves  to  creep, 
Torpid,  to  his  wintry  sleep : 
Where  the  bird  of  carrion  flits. 
And  the  shuddering  murderer  sits,* 
Lone  beneath  a  roof  of  blood  ; 
While  upon  his  poison'd  food, 
From  the  corpse  of  him  he  slew 
Drops  the  chill  and  gory  dew. 

Hither  bend  ye,  turn  ye  hither, 
Eyes  that  blast  and  wings  that  wither ! 
Cross  the  wandering  Christian's  way. 
Lead  him,  ere  the  glimpse  of  day. 
Many  a  mile  of  mad'ning  error 
Througli  the  maze  of  night  ami  terror, 
Till  the  morn  behold  him  lying 
On  the  damp  earth,  pale  and  dying. 
Mock  liim,  when  his  eager  siclit 
Seeks  the  cordial  cottage-lijrht : 
Gleam  then,  like  the  liglitning-bug. 
Tempt  him  to  the  den  that's  dug 

*  This  was  the  mode  of  punishment  for  murder  (as  Charle- 
voix tells  us)  among  the  Hurons.  "  They  laid  the  dead  body 
upon  poles  at  the  top  of  a  cabin,  and  the  murderer  was  obliged 
to  remain  several  days  together,  and  to  receive  all  that  dropped 
from  the  carcass,  not  only  on  himself  but  on  his  food." 


POEilS    KELATING    TO    AMERICA.  93 

For  the  foul  and  famisli'd  brood 
Of  the  she-wolf,  gaunt  for  blood ; 
Or,  unto  the  dangerous  pass 
O'er  the  deep  and  dark  morass, 
Where  the  tremblinsr  Indian  brings 
Belts  of  porcelain,  pipes,  and  rings, 
Tributes,  to  be  hung  in  air, 
To  the  Fiend  presiding  there  !  * 

Then,  when  night's  long  labour  past, 
Wilder'd,  faint,  he  falls  at  last. 
Sinking  where  the  causeway's  edge 
Moulders  in  the  slimy  sedge, 
There  let  every  noxious  thing 
Trail  its  filth  and  fix  its  sting ; 
Let  the  bull-toad  taint  him  over, 
Round  him  let  musquitoes  hover, 
In  his  ears  and  eyeballs  tingling, 
With  his  blood  their  poison  mingling, 
Till,  beneath  the  solar  fires, 
Eankling  all,  the  wretch  expires ! 

*  "  We  find  also  collars  of  porcelain,  tobacco,  ears  of  maize, 
skins,  etc.  by  the  side  of  difTicult  and  dangerous  waj's,  on  rocks, 
or  by  the  side  of  the  falls;  and  these  are  so  many  otTerings  made 
to  the  spirits  which  preside  in  these  places."  —  See  Charlevoix's 
Letter  on  the  Traditions  ami  the  Religion  of  the  Savages  of 
Canada. 


9 
* 


94  POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMKRICA. 


TO   THE  HONOURABLE   W.   1?.    SPENCER. 

FROM   BUFFALO,   UPON   LAKE  KRIE. 

Nec  venit  ad  duros  mu5a  vocata  Gctas. 

Ovid,  ex  Ponto,  lib,  1.  up.  5. 

Thou  oft  hast  told  mc  of  the  happy  hours 

Enjoy'd  by  thee  in  fair  Itaha's  bowers, 

Where,  hngering  yet,  the  ghost  of  ancient  wit 

Midst  modern  monks  profanely  dares  to  flil, 

And  pagan  spirits,  by  the  Pope  unlaid. 

Haunt  every  stream  and  sing  througli  every  shade, 

Tliere  still  the  bard  who  (if  his  numbers  be 

His  tongue's  light  echo)  must  have  talk'd  like  thee,— 

The  courtly  bai-d,  from  whom  thy  mind  has  caught 

Those  playful,  sunshine  holydays  of  thought. 

In  which  the  spirit  baskingly  reclines, 

Bright  without  effort,  resting  while  it  shines,  — 

There  still  he  roves,  and  laughing  loves  to  see 

How  modern  priests  with  ancient  rakes  agree ; 

How,  'neath  the  cowl,  the  festal  garland  shines, 

And  Love  still  finds  a  niche  in  Christian  shrines. 

There  still,  too,  roam  those  other  souls  of  song, 
AVith  whom  thy  spirit  hath  commun'd  so  long. 
That,  quick  as  light,  their  rarest  gems  of  thought, 
By  Memory's  magic  to  thy  lip  are  brought. 
But  here,  alas  !  by  Erie's  stormy  lake. 
As,  far  from  such  bright  haunts  my  course  I  take, 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  95 

No  proud  remembrance  o'er  the  fancy  plays, 
No  classic  dream,  no  star  of  otlier  days 
Hath  left  that  visionary  light  behind. 
That  lingering  radiance  of  immortal  mind, 
"Which  gilds  and  hallows  even  the  rudest  scene, 
The  humblest  shed,  where  Genius  once  has  been ! 

All  that  creation's  varying  mass  assumes 
Of  grand  or  lovely,  here  aspires  and  blooms ; 
Bold  rise  the  mountains,  rich  the  gardens  glow. 
Bright  lakes  expand,  and  conquering  *  rivers  flow ; 
But  mind,  immortal  mind,  without  whose  ray,  ■ 
This  world 's  a  wilderness  and  man  but  clay. 
Mind,  mind  alone,  in  barren,  still  repose. 
Nor  blooms,  nor  rises,  nor  expands,  nor  flows. 
Take  Christians,  Mohawks,  democrats,  and  all 
From  the  rude  wigwam  to  the  congress-hall, 
From  man  the  savage,  whether  slav'd  or  free, 
To  man  the  civiliz'd,  less  tame  than  he,  — 
'Tis  one  dull  chaos,  one  unfertile  strife 
Betwixt  half-polish'd  and  half-barbarous  life  ; 

*  This  epithet  was  suggested  by  Charlevoix's  striking  de- 
scription of  the  confluence  of  the  Missouri  with  the  Mississippi. 
"  I  believe  this  is  the  finest  confluence  in  the  world.  The  two 
rivers  are  much  of  the  same  breadth,  each  about  half  a  league; 
but  the  Missouri  is  by  far  the  most  rapid,  and  seems  to  enter  the 
Mississippi  like  a  conqueror,  through  which  it  carries  its  white 
■waves  to  the  opposite  shore,  without  mixing  them:  afterwards 
it  gives  its  colour  to  the  Mississippi,  which  it  never  loses  again, 
but  carries  quite  down  to  the  sea."  —  Letter  xxvii. 


96  rOEMS    llELATIXG    TO    AMERICA. 

"Where  every  ill  the  ancient  world  could  brew 
Is  niix'd  with  every  grossness  of  the  new; 
Wliere  all  corrupts,  though  little  can  entice, 
And  nought  is  known  of  luxury,  but  its  vice ! 

Is  this  the  region  then,  is  this  the  clime 
For  soaring  fancies  ?  for  those  dreams  sublime, 
Which  all  their  miracles  of  light  reveal 
To  heads  that  meditate  and  hearts  that  feel  ? 
Alas!  not  so  —  the  Muse  of  Nature  lights 
Her  glories  round ;  she  scales  the  mountain  heights. 
And  roams  the  forests ;  every  wond'rous  spot 
Burns  with  her  step,  yet  man  regards  it  not. 
She  whispers  round,  her  words  are  in  the  air, 
But  lost,  unheard,  they  linger  freezing  there,* 
"Without  one  breath  of  soul,  divinely  strong, 
One  ray  of  mind  to  thaw  them  into  song. 

Yet,  yet  forgive  me,  oh  ye  sacred  few, 
"Whom  late  by  Delaware's  green  banks  I  knew ; 
"Whom,  known  and  lov'd  through  many  a  social  eve, 
'Twas  bliss  to  live  with,  and  'twas  pain  to  leave. 
Not  with  more  joy  the  lonely  exile  scann'd 
The  writing  traced  upon  the  desert's  sand, 
"Wliere  his  lone  heart  but  little  hop'd  to  tind 
One  trace  of  life,  one  stamp  of  human  kind, 

*  Alluding  to  the  fanciful  notion  of  "  words  congealed  in 
northen;  iiir." 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  97 

Than  did  I  hail  the  pure,  th'  enlighten'd  zeal, 
The  strength  to  reason  and  the  warmth  to  feel. 
The  manly  polish  and  the  illi^min'd  taste, 
Which,  —  mid  the  melancholy,  heartless  waste 
My  foot  has  travers'd,  —  oh  you  sacred  few  ! 
I  found  by  Delaware's  green  banks  with  you. 

Long  may  you  loathe  the  Gallic  dross  that  runs 
Through  your  fair  country  and  corrupts  its  sous ; 
Long  love  the  arts,  the  glories  which  adorn 
Those  fields  of  freedom,  where  your  sires  were  bom. 
Oh !  if  America  can  yet  be  great, 
If  neither  chain'd  by  choice,  nor  doom'd  by  fate 
To  the  mob-mania  which  imbrutes  her  now. 
She  yet  can  raise  the  crown'd,  yet  civic  brow 
Of  single  majesty,  —  can  add  the  grace 
Of  Rank's  rich  capital  to  Freedom's  base. 
Nor  fear  the  mighty  shaft  Avill  feebler  prove 
For  the  fair  ornament  that  flowers  above ;  — 
If  yet  releas'd  from  all  that  pedant  throng, 
So  vain  of  error  and  so  pledged  to  wrong. 
Who  hourly  teach  her,  like  themselves,  to  hide 
Weakness  in  vaunt,  and  barrenness  in  pride. 
She  yet  can  rise,  can  wreathe  the  Attic  charms 
Of  soft  refinement  round  the  pomp  of  arms, 
And  see  her  poets  flash  the  fires  of  song, 
To  light  her  warriors'  thunderbolts  along ;  — 
It  is  to  you,  to  souls  that  favouring  heaven 
Has  made  like  youi-s,  the  glorious  task  is  given :  — 
VOL.  n.  7 


98  POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA. 

Oh  !  but  for  suc/i,  Columbia's  days  were  done  ; 
Eank  without  ripeness,  quickcn'd  without  sun, 
Crude  at  the  surface,  rotten  at  the  core, 
Her  fruits  would  full,  before  her  spring  were  o'er. 

Believe  me,  Spencer,  while  I  wing'd  the  hours 
Where  Schuylkill  winds  his  way  through  banks  of 

flowers. 
Though  few  the  days,  the  happy  evenings  few. 
So  warm  with  heart,  so  rich  with  mind  they  flew, 
That  my  charm'd  soul  forgot  its  wish  to  roam. 
And  rested  there,  as  in  a  dream  of  home. 
And  looks  I  met,  like  looks  I  'd  lov'd  before. 
And  voices  too,  which,  as  they  trembled  o'er 
The  chord  of  memory,  found  full  many  a  tone 
Of  kindness  there  in  concord  with  their  own. 
Yes,  —  we  had  nights  of  that  communion  free. 
That  flow  of  heart,  which  I  have  known  with  thee 
So  oft,  so  warmly  ;  nights  of  mirth  and  mind. 
Of  whims  that  taught,  and  follies  that  refin'd. 
"When  shall  we  both  renew  them  ?  when,  restor'd 
To  the  gay  feast  and  intellectual  board. 
Shall  I  once  more  enjoy  with  thee  and  thine 
Those  wliims  that  teach,  those  follies  that  refine  ? 
Even  now,  as,  wandering  upon  Erie's  shore, 
I  hear  Niagara's  distant  cataract  roar, 
I  sigh  for  home,  —  alas  !  these  weary  feet 
Have  many  a  mile  to  journey,  ere  we  meet. 

Q  HATPIS,  'QS  20Y  KAPTA  NYN  MNEIAN  EXfl. 

EURU'IDES. 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  99 


BAI.LAD   STANZAS. 

I  KNEW  by  the  smoke,  that  so  gracefully  curl'd 

Above  the  green  elms,  that  a  cottage  was  near, 
And  I  said,  "  If  there 's  peace  to  be  found  in  the 
world, 
"  A   heart  that  was    humble   might  hope    for   it 
here ! " 

It  was  noon,  and  on  flowers  that  languish'd  around 
In  silence  repos'd  the  voluptuous  bee ; 

Every  leaf  was  at  rest,  and  I  heard  not  a  sound 
But  the  woodpecker  tapping  the  hollow  beech-tree. 

And,  "  Here  in  this  lone  little  wood,"  I  exclaim'd, 

"  With  a  maid  who  was  lovely  to  soul  and  to  eye, 
"  Who  would  blush  when  I  prais'd  her,  and  weep  if 
I  blam'd, 
"How  blesi  could  I  live,  and  how  calm  could  I 
die! 

"  By  the  shade  of  yon  sumach,  whose  red  berry  dips 
"  In  the  gush  of  the  fountain,  how  sweet  to  recline, 

"  And  to  know  that  I  sigh'd  upon  innocent  lips, 
"  Which  had  never  been    sigh'd   on  by  any  but 


mme 


I" 


100  rOEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA. 

A   CANADIAN  BOAT   SONG. 

WKITTEN   ON  THE   lUVliU   ST.    LAWRENCE.* 
£t  remigcm  cantus  hortatur. 

QCUiTILIAN. 

Faixtly  as  tolls  the  evening  chime 

Our  voices  kee^D  tune  and  our  oars  keep  time. 

Soon  as  the  woods  on  shore  look  dim, 

We  '11  sing  at  St.  Ann's  our  parting  hymn.f 

*  I  wrote  these  words  to  an  air  which  our  boatmen  sung  to  us 
frequently.  The  wind  was  so  unfavourable  that  they  were 
obliged  to  row  all  the  way,  and  we  were  five  days  in  descending 
the  river  from  Kingston  to  ^[ontrcal,  exposed  to  an  intense  sun 
during  the  day,  and  at  night  forced  to  take  shelter  from  the 
dews  in  any  miserable  hut  upon  the  banks  that  would  receive 
us.  But  the  magnificent  scenery  of  the  St.  Lawrence  repays  all 
such  difficulties. 

Our  voyayeurs  had  good  voices,  and  sung  perfectly  in  tune 
together.  The  original  words  of  the  air,  to  which  I  ada])ted 
these  stanzas,  appeared  to  be  a  long,  incoherent  story,  of  which 
I  could  understand  but  little,  from  the  barbarous  pronunciation 
of  the  Canadians.     It  begins 

Daus  mon  chemin  j'ai  rencontr^ 
Deux  cavaliers  tres-bien  months; 
And  the  refrain  to  every  verse  was, 

A  I'ombre  d'un  bois  je  m'en  vais  jouer, 
A  I'ombrc  d'un  bois  je  m'cn  vais  danser. 

t  "  At  the  Rapid  of  St.  Ann  they  are  obliged  to  take  out  part, 
if  not  the  whole,  of  their  lading.  It  is  from  this  spot  tlie  Cana- 
dians consider  they  take  their  departure,  as  it  possesses  the  last 
church  on  the  island,  which  is  dedicated  to  the  tutelar  saint  of 
voyagers." — Mackenzie,  General  History  of  the  Fur  Trade. 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  101 

Kow,  brothers,  ro\\',  the  stream  runs  fast, 
The  Eapids  are  near  and  the  daylight's  past. 

yi'hj  should  we  yet  our  sail  unfurl  ? 
There  is  not  a  breath  the  blue  wave  to  curl. 
But,  when  the  wind  blows  off  the  shore, 
Oh !  sweetly  we  '11  rest  our  weary  oar. 
Blow,  breezes,  blow,  the  stream  runs  fast, 
The  Rapids  are  near  and  the  daylight's  past. 

Utawas'  tide  !  tliis  trembling  moon 
Shall  see  us  float  over  thy  surges  soon. 
Saint  of  this  green  isle  !  hear  our  prayers, 
Oh,  grant  us  cool  heavens  and  favouring  airs. 
Blow,  breezes,  blow,  the  stream  runs  fast. 
The  Rapids  are  near  and  the  daylight's  past. 


TO   THE   LADY   CHARLOTTE   RAWDON. 

FROM   THE  BANKS   OF   THE   ST.   LAWEEXCE. 

Not  many  months  have  now  been  dream'd  away 
Since  yonder  sun,  beneath  whose  evening  ray 
Our  boat  glides  swiftly  past  these  wooded  shores, 
Saw  me  where  Trent  his  mazy  current  pours. 
And  Donington  s  old  oaks,  to  every  breeze, 
Whisper  the  tale  of  by-gone  centuries  ;  — 
Those  oaks,  to  me  as  sacred  as  the  groves, 
Beneath  whose  shade  the  pious  Persian  roves, 


102      POEMS  RELATING  TO  AMERICA. 

And  hears  the  spirit-voice  of  sire,  or  chief, 
Or  loved  mistress,  sigh  in  every  leaf.* 
There,  oft,  dear  Lady,  while  thy  lip  hath  sung 
My  own  unpolish'd  lays,  how  proud  I've  hung 
On  every  tuneful  accent !  proud  to  feel 
That  notes  like  mine  should  have  the  fate  to  steal, 
As  o'er  thy  hallowing  lip  they  sigh'd  along, 
Such  breath  of  passion  and  such  soul  of  song. 
Yes,  —  I  have  Avonder'd,  like  some  peasant  boy 
Who  sings,  on  Sabbath-eve,  his  strains  of  joy, 
And  when  he  hears  the  wild,  untutor'd  note 
Back  to  his  ear  on  softening  echoes  float, 
Believes  it  still  some  answering  spirit's  tone, 
And  thinks  it  all  too  sweet  to  be  his  own  ! 

I  dreamt  not  then  that,  ere  the  rolling  year 
Had  fill'd  its  circle,  I  should  wander  here 
In  musing  awe  ;  should  tread  this  wondrous  world, 
See  all  its  store  of  inland  waters  hurl'd 
In  one  vast  volume  down  Niagara's  steep, 
Or  calm  behold  them,  in  transparent  sleep, 
"Where  the  blue  hills  of  old  Toronto  shed 
Their  evening  shadows  o'er  Ontario's  bed; 
Should  trace  the  grand  Cadaraqui,  and  glide 
Down  the  white  rapids  of  his  lordly  tide 


*  "  Avenclo  essi  per  costume  di  avere  in  veneraziorie  gli  alberi 
grand!  et  anticlii,  quasi  che  siano  spesso  ricettaccoli  di  anime 
beate."'  — Pktro  chlla  Valle,  part  second.,  lettcra  16  da  i  giardiiii 
di  Sciraz. 


POEMS    KELATING    TO    AJIEKICA.  103 

Through  massy  woods,  mid  islets  flowering  fair, 
And  blooming  glades,  where  the  first  sinful  pair 
For  consolation  might  have  weeping  trod. 
When  banish'd  from  the  garden  of  their  God. 
Oh,  Lady !  these  are  miracles,  which  man, 
Cag'd  in  the  bounds  of  Europe's  pigmy  span, 
Can  scarcely  dream  of,  —  which  his  eye  must  see 
To  know  how  wonderful  this  world  can  be ! 

But  lo,  —  the  last  tints  of  the  west  decline, 
And  night  falls  dewy  o'er  these  banks  of  pine. 
Among  the  reeds,  in  which  our  idle  boat 
Is  rock'd  to  rest,  the  wind's  complaining  note 
Dies  like  a  half-breath'd  whispering  of  flutes  ; 
Along  the  wave  the  gleaming  porpoise  shoots, 
And  I  can  trt^ce  him,  like  a  watery  star,* 
Down  the  steep  current,  till  he  fades  afar 
Amid  the  foaming  breakers'  silvery  light, 
Where  yon  rough  rapids  sparkle  through  the  night. 
Here,  as  along  this  shadowy  bank  I  stray, 
And  the  smooth  glass-snake,t  gliding  o'er  my  way, 
Shows  the  dim  moonlight  through  his  scaly  form. 
Fancy,  with  all  the  scene's  enchantment  warm. 
Hears  in  the  murmur  of  the  nightly  breeze 
Some  Indian  Spirit  warble  words  like  these  :  — 

*  Anburey,  in  his  Travels,  has  noticed  this  shooting  illumina- 
tion, which  porpoises  diffuse  at  night  through  the  river  St. 
Lawrence. —  Vol.  i.  p.  29. 

t  The  glass-snake  is  brittle  and  transparent. 


104  POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA. 

From  the  land  beyond  the  sea, 
AYhither  happy  spirits  flee  ; 
Where,  transform'd  to  sacred  doves,* 
Many  a  blessed  Indian  roves 
Tlirough  the  air  on  wing,  as  white 
As  those  wond'rous  stones  of  light,t 
Which  the  eye  of  morning  counts 
On  the  Apallachian  mounts,  — 
Hither  oft  my  flight  I  take 
Over  Hui'on's  lucid  lake, 
Where  the  wave,  as  clear  as  dew, 
Sleeps  beneath  the  light  canoe. 
Which,  reflected,  floating  there, 
Looks  as  if  it  hung  in  air. 

Then,  when  I  have  stray'd  a  while 
Through  the  Manatanlin  isle,| 
Bieathing  all  its  holy  bloom. 
Swift  I  mount  me  on  the  plume 
Of  my  Wakon-Bird,§  and  fly 
Where,  beneath  a  burning  sky, 

*  "  The  (Icpurteil  spirit  goes  into  the  Couiitrv  of  Souls,  where, 
according  to  some,  it  is  tnuisformed  into  !x  clove."  —  Charlevoix, 
upon  the  Trn</itii>ns  (iml  the  RvUij'wn  of  the  Snrnyes  of  Canada. 
See  tlie  curious  (hble  of  the  American  Orpiieus  in  Lalilau,  torn. 
i.  p.  402. 

t  "  The  mountains  appeared  to  be  sprinkled  witii  white  stones, 
■which  glisteiiod  in  the  >un,  and  were  called  by  the  Indians  man- 
etoe  aseniah,  or  spirit-stones."  —  Mackenzie' s  Joiir-naL 

X  Manatanlin  signifies  a  Place  of  Spirits,  and  this  island  in 
Lake  Huron  is  held  sacred  by  the  Indians. 

§  "  The  Wakon-Bird,  which  probably  is  of  the  same  species 


POEMS    RELATING   TO    AMERICA.  105 

O'er  the  bed  of  Erie's  lake 
Slumbers  many  a  water-snake, 
Wrapt  Avithln  the  web  of  leaves, 
"Which  the  water-lily  weaves.* 
Next  I  chase  the  flow'ret-king 
Through  his  rosy  realm  of  spring  ; 
See  him  now,  while  diamond  hues 
Soft  his  neck  and  wings  suffuse, 
In  the  leafy  chalice  sink. 
Thirsting  for  his  balmy  drink ; 
Now  behold  liira  all  on  fire, 
Lovely  in  his  looks  of  ire, 
Breaking  every  infant  stem, 
Scattering  every  velvet  gem, 
Where  his  little  tyrant  lip 
Had  not  found  enough  to  sip. 

Then  my  playful  hand  I  steep 
Where  the  gold-thread  f  loves  to- creep, 
Cull  from  thence  a  tangled  wreath. 
Words  of  magic  round  it  breathe, 

•Nvith  the  Bird  of  Paradise,  receives  its  name  from  the  ideas  the 
Indians  have  of  its  superior  excellence ;  the  Wakon-Bird  being, 
in  their  lancjuage,  the  Bird  of  the  Great  Spirit."  —  Moise. 

*  The  islands  of  Lake  Erie  are  surrounded  to  a  considerable 
distance  bv  the  large  pond-lily,  whose  leaves  spread  thickly  over 
the  surface  of  the  lake,  and  form  a  kind  of  bed  for  the  water- 
snakes  in  summer. 

t  "  The  gold-thread  is  of  the  vine  kind,  and  gi-ows  in  swamps. 
The  roots  spread  themselves  just  under  the  surface  of  the  mo- 
rasses, and  are  easily  drawn  out  by  handfuls.  Thev  resemble 
a  large  entangled  skein  of  silk,  and  are  of  a  bright  yellow."  — 
JUorse. 


106  POEMS    HKLATING    TO    AMERICA. 

And  the  sunny  chaplet  spread 
O'er  the  sleeping  fly-bird's  liead, 
Till,  Avith  dreams  of  honey  blest, 
Haunted,  in  his  downy  nest, 
By  the  garden's  fairest  spells, 
Dewy  buds  and  fragrant  bells, 
Fancy  all  his  soul  embowers 
In  the  fly-bird's  heaven  of  flowers. 

Oft,  when  hoar  and  silvery  flakes 
Melt  along  the  ruffled  lakes. 
When  the  gray  moose  sheds  his  horns, 
"NYlicn  the  track,  at  evening,  warns 
Weary  hunters  of  the  way 
To  the  wigwam's  cheering  ray, 
Then,  aloft  through  freezing  air, 
With  the  snow-bird  *  soft  and  fair 
As  the  fleece  that  heaven  flings 
O'er  his  little  pearly  wings, 
Light  above  the  rocks  I  play, 
Where  Niagara's  starry  spray, 
Frozen  on  the  cliff',  appears 
Like  a  giant's  starting  tears. 
There,  amid  the  island-sedge, 
Just  upon  the  cataract's  edge, 
Where  the  foot  of  living  man 
Never  trod  since  time  began, 
Lone  I  sit,  at  close  of  day, 
While,  beneath  the  golden  ray, 

•  Embcriza  hyemalis.  —  See  Imlay's  Kentucky,  p.  280. 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  107 

Icy  columns  gleam  below, 
Feather'd  round  with  falling  snow, 
And  an  arch  of  glory  springs, 
Sparkling  as  the  chain  of  rings 
Round  the  neck  of  virgins  hung, — 
Virgins,*  who  have  wander'd  young 
O'er  the  waters  of  the  west 
To  the  land  where  spirits  rest ! 

Thus  have  I  charm'd,  with  visionary  lay, 
The  lonely  moments  of  the  night  away  ; 
And  now,  fresh  daylight  o'er  the  water  beams  ! 
Once  more,  embark'd  upon  the  glittering  streams, 
Our  boat  flies  light  along  the  leafy  shore. 
Shooting  the  falls,  without  a  dip  of  oar 
Or  breath  of  zephyr,  like  the  mystic  bark 
The  poet  saw,  in  dreams  divinely  dark, 
Borne,  without  sails,  along  the  dusky  flood,! 
While  on  its  deck  a  pilot  angel  stood. 
And,  with  his  wings  of  living  light  unfurl'd, 
Coasted  the  dim  shores  of  another  world  I 

*  Lnfitau  supposes  that  there  was  an  order  of  vestals  estab- 
lished among  the  Iroquois  Indians.  —  Moeurs  des  Sauvages 
Am&ricains,  etc.  torn.  i.  p.  173. 

t  Vedi  che  sdegna  gli  argomenti  umani ; 
Si  che  remo  non  vuol,  ne  altro  velo, 
Che  r  ale  sue  tra  liti  si  lontani. 

Vedi  come  1'  ha  dritte  verso  '1  cielo 
Trattando  1'  aere  con  1'  eterne  penne; 
Che  non  si  mutan,  come  mortal  pelo. 

Dante,  Purgator.  cant.  ii. 


108  POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA. 

Yet,  oh !  believe  me,  mid  tliis  mingled  maze 
Of  nature's  beauties,  where  the  fancy  strays 
From  charm  to  charm,  where  every  flow'ret's  hue 
Hath  something  strange,  and  every  leaf  is  new,  — 
I  never  feel  a  joy  so  pure  and  still. 
So  inly  felt,  as  when  some  brook  or  hill, 
Or  veteran  oak.  like  those  remember'd  well. 
Some  mountain  echo  or  some  wild-flower's  smell, 
(For,  who  can  say  by  what  small  fairy  ties 
The  mem'ry  clings  to  pleasure  as  it  flies  ?) 
Reminds  my  heart  of  many  a  silvan  dream 
I  once  indulg'd  by  Trent's  inspiring  stream ; 
Of  all  my  sunny  morns  and  moonlight  nights 
On  Donington's  green  lawns  and  bi-eezy  heights. 

"V^hether  I  trace  the  tranquil  moments  o'er 
Wlien  I  have  seen  thee  cull  the  fruits  of  lore, 
With  him,  the  [)olish'd  warrior,  by  thy  side, 
A  sister's  idol  and  a  nation's  pride ! 
Wlien  thou  hast  read  of  heroes,  trophied  high 
In  ancient  fame,  and  I  have  seen  thine  eye 
Turn  to  the  living  hero,  while  it  read, 
For  pure  and  brightening  comments  on  the  dead;  — 
Or  whetlicr  memory  to  my  mind  recalls 
The  festal  grandeur  of  tliose  lordly  halls. 
When  guests  have  met  around  the  sparkling  board, 
And  welcome  warm'd  the  cup  that  luxury  pour'd: 
When  the  briglit  future  Star  of  England's  throne, 
With  magic  smile,  liath  o'er  the  banquet  shone, 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  109 

Winning  respect,  nor  claiming  what  he  Avon, 
But  tempering  greatness,  like  an  evening  sun 
Whose  light  the  eye  can  tranquilly  admire, 
Radiant,  but  mild,  all  softness,  yet  all  fire  ;  — 
Whatever  hue  my  recollections  take, 
Even  the  regret,  the  very  pain  they  wake 
Is  mix'd  Avith  happiness  ;  —  but,  ah  !  no  moi'e  — 
Lady !  adieu  —  my  heart  has  linger'd  o'er 
Those  vanish'd  times,  till  all  that  round  me  lies, 
Stream,  banks,  and  bowers  have  faded  on  my  eyes ! 


IMPROMPTU 

AFTER  A  VISIT  TO   5IKS.    ,   OF   3IOXTKEAL. 

'T  "SVAS  but  for  a  moment  —  and  yet  in  that  time 
She  crowded  th'  impressions  of  many  an  hour : 

Her  eye  had  a  glow,  like  the  sun  of  her  clime. 
Which  wak'd  every  feeling  at  once  into  flower. 

Oh  !  could  we  have  borrow'd  from  Time  but  a  day, 
To  renew  such  impressions  again  and  again, 

The  things  Ave  should  look  and  imagine  and  say. 
Would  be  Avorth  all  the  life  Ave  had  Avasted  till  then. 

What  Ave  had  not  the  leisure  or  language  to  speak, 
We  should  find  some  more  spiritual  mode  of  re- 
vealing, 

And,  between  us,  should  feel  just  as  much  in  a  week 
As  others  would  take  a  millennium  in  feeling. 


110  rOEMS    KKLATIXG    TO    AMKKICA. 


AVRITTEN   ON  PASSING  DEADMAN'S   ISLAND,* 

IN  THE   GULF   OF    ST.   LAWRKNCE,   LATE   IN   TIIK 
EVENING,    SEPTEM15EH,    1804. 

See  you,  beneath  yon  cloud  so  dark, 

Fast  gliding  along  a  gloomy  bark  ? 

Her  sails  are  full,  —  though  the  wind  is  still, 

And  there  blows  not  a  breath  her  sails  to  fill ! 

Say,  what  doth  that  vessel  of  darkness  bear  ? 
The  silent  calm  of  the  grave  is  there. 
Save  now  and  again  a  death-knell  rung, 
And  the  flap  of  the  sails  with  night-fog  hung. 

There  lieth  a  wreck  on  the  dismal  shore 
Of  cold  and  pitiless  Labrador  ; 
"Where,  under  the  moon,  upon  mounts  of  frost, 
Full  many  a  mariner's  bones  are  tost. 

Yon  shadowy  bark  hath  been  to  that  wreck, 
And  the  dim  blue  fire,  that  lights  her  deck, 
Doth  play  on  as  pale  and  livid  a  crew 
As  ever  yet  drank  the  churchyard  dew. 

*  This  is  one  of  the  IMiigdalen  Islands,  and,  sinfjularly  enough, 
is  the  property  of  Sir  Isaac  Cofliii.  The  above  lines  were  sug- 
gested by  a  superstition  very  common  among  sailors,  who  call 
this  ghost-ship,  I  think,  "  the  flying  Dutchman." 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  Ill 

To  Deadraan's  Isle,  in  the  eye  of  the  blast, 
To  Deadman's  Isle,  she  speeds  her  fast ; 
By  skeleton  shapes  her  sails  are  fiu-l'd, 
Aiid  the  hand  that  steers  is  not  of  this  world ! 

Oh  !  hurry  thee  on  —  oh !  hurry  thee  on, 
Thou  terrible  bark,  ere  the  night  be  gone, 
JSTor  let  morning  look  on  so  foul  a  sight 
As  would  blanch  forever  her  rosy  light ! 


TO   THE  BOSTON  FRIGATE, 

ON  LEAVING  HALIFAX   FOR  ENGLAND,   OCTOBER,    1604. 

NoCTTOv  npo(paaig  y2.VKepov. 

Pindar.  Pi/th.  4. 

With  triumph  this  morning,  oh  Boston !  I  hail 
The  stir  of  thy  deck  and  the  spread  of  thy  sail, 
For  they  tell  me  I  soon  shall  be  wafted,  in  thee, 
To  the  flourishing  isle  of  the  brave  and  the  free. 
And  that  chill  Nova-Scotia's  unpromising  strand 
Is  the  last  I  shall  tread  of  American  land. 
Well  —  peace  to  the  land !  may  her  sons  know,  at 

length. 
That  in  high-minded  honour  lies  liberty's  strength, 
That  though  man  be  as  free  as  the  fetterless  wind, 
As  the  wantonest  air  that  the  north  can  unbind, 


112  pok:ms  nrxATiNG  to  amkkica. 

Yet,  if  heiilth  do  not  temper  and  SAveeten  the  blast, 
If  no  harvest  of  mind  ever  sprung  where  it  pa.ss'd, 
Then     uiihk'st    is    sueh    freedom,    and    baleful    its 

might,— 
Free  only  to  ruin,  and  strong  but  to  blight ! 

Farewell  to  the  few  I  have  left  with  regret ; 
May  they  sometimes  recall,  what  I  cannot  forget, 
Tlie  delight  of  those  evenings,  —  too  brief  a  delight ! 
When  in  converse  and  song  we  have  stol'n  on  the 

night ;  [the  mien 

When  they've  ask'd  me  the  manners,  the  mind,  or 
Of  some  bard  I  had  known  or  some  chief  I  had  seen, 
Whose  glory,  though  distant,  they  long  had  ador'd. 
Whose   name    had  oft   hallow'd  the  wine-cup  they 

j)our'd. 
And  still  as,  with  sympathy  humble  but  true, 
I  have  told  of  each  bright  son  of  fame  all  I  knew, 
They  have   listen'd,  and   sigh'd  that   the   powerful 

stream 
Of  America's  empire  should  pass,  like  a  dream, 
Without  leaving  one  relic  of  genius,  to  say 
How  sublime  was  the  tide  which  had  vanish'd  away  ! 
Farewell  to  tlie  few  —  though  we  never  may  meet 
On  this  planet  again,  it  is  soothing  and  sweet 
To  think  that,  whenever  my  song  or  my  name 
Shall  recur  to  their  ear,  they'll  recall  me  the  same 
I  have  been  to  them  now,  young,  unlhoughtful,  and 

blest. 
Ere  hope  had  deceiv'd  me  or  sorrow  deprest. 


POEMS    RELATING    TO    AMERICA.  113 

But,  Douglas !  while  thus  I  recall  to  my  mind 
The  elect  of  the  land  we  shall  soon  leave  behind, 
I  can  read  in  the  weather-wise  glance  of  thine  eye, 
As  it  follows  the  rack  flitting  over  the  sky, 
That  the  fiiint  coming  breeze  will  be  fair  for  our 

flight. 
And  shall  steal  us  away,  ere  the  falling  of  night. 
Dear  Douglas !  thou  knowest,  with  thee  by  my  side, 
With  thy  friendship  to  soothe  me,  thy  courage  to 

guide. 
There  is  not  a  bleak  isle  in  those  summerless  seas. 
Where  the  day  comes  in  darkness,  or  shines  but  to 

freeze, 
Not  a  tract  of  the  line,  not  a  barbarous  shore. 
That  I  could  not  with  patience,  with  pleasure  ex- 
plore ! 
Oh  think  then  how  gladly  I  follow  thee  now. 
When  Hope  smooths  the  billowy  path  of  our  prow. 
And   each   prosperous    sigh   of  the    west-springing 
wind  *  [shrin'd ; 

Takes  me  nearer  the  home  where  my  heart  is  in- 
Where  the  smile  of  a  father  shall  meet  me  again. 
And  the  tears  of  a  mother  turn  bliss  into  pain  ; 
Where  the  kind  voice  of  sisters  shall  steal  to  my 

heart, 
And  ask  it,  in  sighs,  how  we  ever  could  part  ?  — 

• 

But  see  !  —  the  bent  top-sails  are  ready  to  swell  — 
To  the  boat  —  I   am  with   thee  —  Columbia,  fare- 
well ! 
VOL.  II.  8 


SATIKICAL  PIECES 


PREFACE 

TO    SATIRICAL    PIECES,    ETC 


The  three  satirical  Poems  with  which  this  Vol- 
ume commences,  were  published  originally  without 
the  author's  name  ;  "  Corruption  "  and  "  Intolerance  " 
in  the  year  1808,  and  "  The  Sceptic"  in  the  year 
following.  The  political  opinions  adopted  in  the  tirst 
of  these  Satires  -^  the  Poem  on  Corruption  —  were 
chiefly  caught  up,  as  is  intimated  in  the  original 
Preface,  from  the  writings  of  Bolingbroke,  Sir  Wil- 
liam Wyndham,  and  other  statesmen  of  that  factious 
period,  when  the  same  sort  of  alhance  took  place  be- 
tween Toryism  and  what  is  now  called  Radicalism, 
which  is  always  likely  to  ensue  on  the  ejection  of  the 
Tory  party  Irom  power.*  In  this  somewhat  rash 
effusion,  it  wilt  be  seen  that  neither  of  the  two  great 
English  parties  is  handled  with  much  respect ;  and 
I  remember  being  taken  to  task,  by  ojie  of  the  few 
of  my  Whig  acquaintances  that  ever  looked  into  the 

*  Bolingbroke  himself  acknowledges  that  "  both  parties  were 
become  factions,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word." 


118  PREFACE    TO 

poem,  for   the  following  allusion  to   the   silencing 
effects  of  official  station  on  certain  orators  :  — 

As  bees,  on  flowers  alighting,  cease  their  hum, 
So,  settling  upon  places,  Whigs  grow  dumb. 

But  these  attempts  of  mine  in  the  stately,  Juvena- 
lian  style  of  satire,  met  with  but  little  success,  — 
never  having  attained,  I  believe,  even  the  honours  of 
a  second  edition ;  and  I  found  that  lighter  form  of 
weapon,  to  which  I  afterwards  betook  myself,  not 
only  more  easy  to  wield,  but,  from  its  very  lightness, 
perhaps,  more  sure  to  reach  its  mark. 

It  would  almost  seem,  too,  as  if  the  same  unem- 
bittered  spirit,  the  same  freedom  from  all  real  mal- 
ice with  wliich,  in  most  instances,  this  sort  of  squib- 
warfare  has  been  waged  by  me,  was  felt,  in  some 
degree,  even  by  those  who  were  themselves  the  ob- 
jects of  it ;  —  so  generously  forgiving  have  I,  in  most 
instances,  found  them.  Even  the  high  Personage 
against  whom  the  earliest  and  perhaps  most  success- 
ful of  my  lighter  missiles  were  launched,  could  refer 
to  and  quote  them,  as  I  learn  from  an  incident  men- 
tioned in  the  Life  of  Sir  "Walter  Scott,*  with  a  degree 
of  good-humour  and  playfulness  which  was  credita- 
ble alike  to  his  temper  and  good  sense.  At  a  mem- 
orable dinner  given  by  the  Regent  to  Sir  AValter  in 
the  year  1815,  Scott,  among  other  stories  with  which 
his  royal  host  was  much  amused,  told  of  a  sentence 
passed  by  an  old  friend  of  his,  the  Lord  Justice 

*  Vol.  iii.  p.  342. 


SATIRICAL    PIECES.  119 

Clerk  Braxfield,  attended  by  circumstances  in  which 
the  cruelty  of  this  waggish  judge  was  even  more 
conspicuous  than  his  humour.  "  The  Regent  laughed 
heartily,"  says  the  biographer,  "  at  this  specimen  of 
Braxfield's  brutal  humour ;  and  '  I'  faith,  Walter,' 
said  he, '  this  old  big-wig  seems  to  have  taken  things 
as  coolly  as  my  tyrannical  self.  Don't  you  remem- 
ber Tom  Moore's  description  of  me  at  breakfast  ?  — 

'  The  table  spread  wifh  tea  and  toast, 
Death-warrants,  and  the  Morning  Post.'  " 

In  reference  to  this,  and  other  less  exalted  in- 
stances, of  the  good-humoured  spirit  in  which  my  "  in- 
nocui  sales  "  have  in  general  been  taken,  I  shall  ven- 
ture to  cite  here  a  few  flattering  sentences  which, 
coming  as  they  did  from  a  political  adversary  and  a 
stranger,  touched  me  far  more  by  their  generosity 
than  even  by  their  praise.  In  speaking  of  the  pen- 
sion which  had  just  been  conferred  upon  me,  and 
expressing,  in  warm  terms,  his  approval  of  the 
grant,  the  editor  of  a  leading  Tory  journal  *  thus 
liberally  expresses  himself:  "We  know  that  some 
will  blame  us  for  our  prejudice  —  if  it  be  prejudice, 
in  favour  of  Mr.  Moore  ;  but  we  cannot  help  it.  As 
he  tells  us  himself, 

'  Wit  a  diamond  brings 
That  cuts  its  bright  Tivay  through' 

the  most  obdurate  poHtical  antipathies.  .  .  .  We  do 
not  beheve  that  any  one  was  ever  hurt  by  libels 

*  The  Standard,  August  24, 1835. 


120  PREFACE    TO 

SO  witty  as  those  of  Mr.  Moore :  —  great  privilege 
of  wit,  wliich  renders  it  impossible  even  for  those 
whose  enemies  wits  are,  to  hate  them  ! " 

To  return  to  the  period  of  the  Regency :  —  In  the 
numerous  attacks  from  the  government  press,  which 
my  volleys  of  small  shot  against  the  Court  used  to 
draw  down  upon  me,  it  was  constantly  alleged,  as 
an  aggravation  of  my  misdeeds,  that  I  had  been 
indebted  to  the  Royal  personage  thus  assailed  by  me 
for  many  kind  and  substantial  services.  Luckily, 
the  list  of  the  benefits  showered  upon  me  from  that 
high  quarter  may  be  despatched  in  a  few  sentences. 
At  the  request  of  Lord  Moii-a,  one  of  my  earliest 
and  best  friends,  his  Royal  Highness  graciously  per- 
mitted me  to  dedicate  to  him  my  Translation  of  the 
Odes  of  Anacreon.  I  was  twice,  I  think,  admitted 
to  the  honour  of  dining  at  Carlton  House  ;  and  when 
the  Prince,  on  his  being  made  Regent  in  1811,  gave 
his  memorable  fete,  I  was  one  of  the  crowd  —  about 
1,500,  I  believe,  in  number  —  who  enjoyed  the  priv- 
ilege of  being  his  guests  on  the  occasion. 

There  occurs  some  allusions,  indeed,  in  the  Two- 
penny Post  Bag,  to  the  absurd  taste  displayed  in  the 
ornaments  of  the  Royal  supper  table  at  that  fete  ;  * 


*  The  same  fauteuils  and  girandoles  — 
The  same  gold  asses,  pretty  souls, 
That,  in  this  rich  and  classic  dome, 
Appear  so  perfectly  at  home ; 
The  same  bright  river,  'moni;  the  dishes, 
But  not  —  ah!  not  the  same  dear  fishes. 


SATIRICAL    PIECES.  121 

and  this  violation  —  for  such,  to  a  certain  extent,  I 
allow  it  to  have  been  —  of  the  reverence  due  to  the 
rites  of  the  Hospitable  Jove,*  which,  whether  admin- 
istered by  prince  or  peasant,  ought  to  be  sacred  from 
such  exposure,  I  am  by  no  means  disposed  to  defend. 
But,  whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  taste  or  pru- 
dence of  some  of  these  satires,  there  exists  no  longer, 
I  apprehend,  much  difference  of  opinion  respecting 
the  character  of  the  Royal  personage  against  whom 
they  were  aimed.  Already,  indeed,  has  the  stern 
verdict  which  the  voice  of  History  cannot  but  pro- 
nounce upon  him,  been  in  some  degree  anticipated,! 
a  sketch  of  the  domestic  events  of  his  reign,  supposed 
to  have  proceeded  from  the  pen  of  one  who  was  him- 
self an  actor  in  some  of  its  most  painful  scenes,  and 

Late  hours  and  claret  kill'd  the  old  ones;  — 

So,  stead  of  silver  and  of  gold  ones, 

(It  being  rather  hard  to  raise     ^ 

Fish  of  that  specie  now-a-days) 

Some  sprats  have  been,  by  Yarmouth's  wish. 

Promoted  into  silver  fish. 

And  gudgeons  (so  Vansittart  told 

The  Regent)  are  as  good  as  gold. 

Twopenny  Post  Bug,  p.  206. 

♦  Ante  fores  stabat  Jovis  Hospitis  ara.         Ovid. 

t  Edinburgh  Review,  No.  cxxxv.,  George  the  Fourth  and 
Queen  Caroline.  —  "When  the  Prince  entered  upon  public  life 
he  was  found  to  have  exhausted  the  resources  of  a  career  of 
pleasure;  to  have  gained  followers  without  making  friends;  to 
have  acquired  much  envy  and  some  admiration  among  the  un- 
thinking multitude  of  polished  society;  but  not  to  command  in 

any  quarter    either    respect  or  esteem The    portrait 

which  we  have  painted  of  him  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  darkest 
shade,  and  most  repulsive  form." 


122  PREFACE    TO 

who,  from  his  professional  position,  commanded  a 
near  insight  into  the  character  of  that  exaUod  indi- 
Aidual,  botli  as  husband  and  father.  To  the  samo 
high  authority  I  must  refer  for  an  account  of  tlie 
mysterious  "  Book,"  *  to  which  allusion  is  more  than 
once  made  in  the  following  pages. 

One  of  the  first  and  most  successful  of  the  nu- 
merous trifles  I  wrote  at  that  period,  was  the  Par- 
ody on  the  Regent's  celebrated  Letter,  announcing 
to  the  world  that  he  "  had  no  predilections,"  etc. 
This  very  opportune  squib  was,  at  first,  circulated 
privately ;  my  friend,  Mr.  Perry,  having  for  some 
time  hesitated  to  publish  it.  lie  got  some  copies  of 
it,  however,  printed  off  for  me,  which  I  sent  round 
to  several  members  of  the  Whig  party ;  and  having 
to  meet  a  number  of  them  at  dinner  immediately 
after,  found  it  no  easy  matter  to  keep  my  counte- 
nance while  they  were  discussing  among  them  the 
merits  of  the  Parody.  One  of  the  party,  I  recollect, 
having  quoted  to  me  the  following  description  of  the 
state  of  both  King  and  Regent,  at  that  moment,  — 

"  A  straight  waistcoat  on  htm,  and  restrictions  on  7ne, 
A  more  limited  monarchy  could  not  well  be," 

grew  rather  provoked  with  me  for  not  enjoying  the 
fun  of  the  parody  as  much  as  himself. 

*  "  There  is  no  doubt  whatever  that  The  Book,  written  by 
Mr.  Perceval,  and  privately  printed  at  his  house,  under  Lord 
Eldon's  su[)crintendcnce  and  his  own,  was  prepared  in  concert 
with  the  King,  and  was  intended  to  sound  the  alarm  against 
Carlton  House  and  the  Whigs."  —  Ed.  Jieview,  ib. 


SATIRICAL    PIECES.  123 

"While  thus  the  excitement  of  party  feeling  lent  to 
the  ix)litical  trifles  contained  in  this  volume  a  relish 
and  pungency  not  their  own,  an  effect  has  been  at- 
tributed to  two  squibs,  wholly  unconnected  with  poli- 
tics—  the  Letters  from  the  Dowager  Countess  of 
Cork,  and  from  Messrs.  Lackington  and  Co.  —  of 
which  I  myself  had  not  the  slightest  notion  till  I 
found  it  thus  alluded  to  in  Mr.  Lockhart's  Life  of 
Sir  Walter  Scott.  Li  speaking  of  the  causes  which 
were  supposed  to  have  contributed  to  the  compai-- 
ative  failure  of  the  Poem  of  "  Rokeby,"  the  biogra- 
pher says,  "  It  is  fair  to  add  that,  among  the  London 
circles,  at  least,  some  sarcastic  flings,  in  Mr.  Moore's 
Twopenny  Post  Bag,  must  have  had  an  unfavour- 
able influence  on  this  occasion."  * 


*  "  See,  for  instance,"  says  Mr.  Lockhart,  "  the  Epistle  of 
Lady  Cork;  or  that  of  Messrs.  Lackington,  booksellers,  to  one 
of  their  dandy  authors :  — 

'  Should  you  feel  any  touch  o{ poetical  glow, 
We've  a  scheme  to  suggest:  — Mr.  Scott,  you  must  know, 
(Who,  we  're  sorry  to  say  it,  now  works  for  the  Row,)^ 
Having  quitted  the  Borders,  to  seek  new  renown, 
Is  coming,  by  long  Quarto  stages,  to  Town; 
And  beginning  with  Rokeby,  (the  job  's  sure  to  pay,) 
Means  to  do  all  the  Gentlemen's  Seats  on  the  way. 
Now,  the  scheme  is  (though  none  of  our  hackneys  can  beat  him) 
To  start  a  fresh  Poet  through  Highgate  to  meet  him; 
Who,  by  means  of  quick  proofs  — no  revises  — long  coaches  — 
May  do  a  few  villas,  before  Scott  approaches. 
Indeed,  if  our  Pegasus  be  not  curst  shabby, 
He  '11  reach,  without  found'ring,  at  least  Wobum  Abbey.' " 

1  Paternoster  Row. 


124  PREFACE    TO 

Among  the  translations  that  have  appeared  on 
the  Continent,  of  the  greater  part  of  my  poetical 
works,  there  has  been  no  attempt,  as  far  as  I  can 
learn,  to  give  a  version  of  any  of  my  satirical  writ- 
ings,—  with  the  single  exception  of  a  squib  con- 
tained in  this  volume,  entitled  "  Little  Man  and 
Little  Soul,"  *  of  which  there  is  a  translation  into 
German  verse,  by  the  late  distinguished  oriental 
scholar,  Pi'ofessor  von  Bohlen.f  Though  unskilled, 
myself,  in  German,  I  can  yet  perceive  —  sufficiently 
to  marvel  at  it  —  the  dexterity  and  ease  with  which 
the  Old  Ballad  metre  of  the  original  is  adopted  and 
managed  in  the  translation.  As  this  trifle  may  be 
considered  curious,  not  only  in  itself,  but  still  more 
as  connected  with  so  learned  a  name,  I  shall  here 
present  it  to  my  readers,  premising  that  the  same 
eminent  Professor  has  left  a  version  also  of  one  of 
my  very  early  facetiae,  "  The  Rabbinical  Origin  of 
Woman." 

"there    "WAS    A    LITTLE    MAX." 

( Translated  by  Professor  von  Bohlen.) 

Es  war  ein  kleiner  JIanii 
Und  der  hatt'n  kleinen  Geist 
tjnd  er  spracli :  klcincr  Geist  sehn  wir  zu,  zu,  zu, 
Ob  uns  miiglich  wohl  wirJ  seyn 
So  ein  kleines  Redelein 

*  Alluding  to  a  speech  delivered  in  the  year  1813  by  the 
Right  Hon.  Charles  Abbot  (then  Speaker)  against  Mr.  Grattau's 
motion  for  a  Committee  on  tlie  Claims  of  the  Catholics. 

t  Author  of  "  The  Ancient  Indian." 


SATIRICAL    PIECES.  125 

Das  -n-ir  halten,  kleiner  ich  iind  kleiner  du,  du,  du, 
Das  wir  halten,  kleiner  ich  und  kleiner  du. 

Und  der  kleine  Geist,  der  brach 

Aus  dem  Loche  nun  und  sprach : 
Ich  behaupte,  kleiner  Mann,  du  bist  keck,  keck,  keck, 

>;inim  nicht  iibel  meine  Zweifel, 

Aber  sage  mir,  zum  Teufel, 
Hat  die  kleine  kleine  Red'  einen  zweck,  zweck,  zweck. 

Hat  die  kleine  kleine  Red'  einen  zweck  ? 

Der  kleine  Mann  darauf 

Bliess  die  Backen  miichtig  auf, 
Und  er  sprach:  kleiner  Geist  sey  gescheut,  scheut,  scheut; 

Kleiner  ich  und  kleiner  du 

Sind  berufen  ja  dazu 
Zu  verdammen  und  bekehren  alle  Lent',  Leut',  Leut', 

Zu  verdammen  und  bekehren  alle  Leut'. 

Und  sie  fingen  beide  an 

Der  kleine  Geist  und  kleine  Mann, 
Paukten  ab  ihre  Rede  so  klein,  klein,  klein: 

Und  die  ganze  Welt  fiir  wahr 

Meint,  das  aufgeblas'ne  Paar 
Musst  ein  -winziges  PfiifTelein  nur  seyn,  seyn,  seyn, 

Musst  ein  winziges  Pfaffeleln,  nur  seyn. 

Having  thus  brought  together,  as  well  from  the 
records  of  others,  as  from  my  own  recollection, 
whatever  incidental  lights  could  be  thrown  from 
those  sources,  on  some  of  the  satirical  effusions 
contained  in  these  pages,  I  shall  now  reserve  all 
such  reminiscences  and  notices  as  relate  to  the  Irish 
Melodies,  for  our  next  volume. 

It  is  right  my  readers  should  here  be  apprised, 
that  the  plan  of  classing  my  poetical  works  accord- 
ing to  the  order  of  their  first  publication,  is  pursued 
no  further  than  the  Second  Volume  of  this  CoUec- 


126  PREFACE    TO    SATIRICAL    PIECES. 

tion  ;  *  and  that,  therefore,  the  arrangement  of  the 
contents  of  the  succeeding  Vohimes,  tliougli  not,  in 
a  general  way,  departing  much  from  this  rule,  is 
not  to  be  depended  upon  as  observing  it. 

*  [The  author's  last  edition  of  his  works  was  published  in  ten 
volumes.] 


CORRITTION  A:^D  I^TOLERA^TE. 


TWO    POEMS. 


ADDRESSED  TO  AX  EXGLISHMAX  BY  AX  IRISHMAN. 


PREFACE. 


The  practice  which  has  been  lately  introduced 
into  literature,  of  writing  very  long  notes  upon  very 
indifferent  verses,  appears  to  me  rather  a  happy 
invention  ;  as  it  supplies  us  with  a  mode  of  turning 
dull  poetry  to  account;  and  as  horses  too  heavy 
for  the  saddle  may  yet  serve  well  enough  to  draw 
lumber,  so  Poems  of  this  kind  make  excellent 
beasts  of  burden,  and  will  bear  notes,  though  they 
may  not  bear  reading.  Besides,  the  comments  in 
such  cases  are  so  little  under  the  necessity  of  paying 
any  servile  deference  to  the  text,  that  they  may 
even  adopt  that  Socratic  dogma,  "  Quod  supra  nos 
nihil  ad  nos." 

In  the  first  of  the  two  following  Poems,  I  have 
ventured  to  speak  of  the  Revolution  of  1688,  in 
language  which  has  sometimes  been  employed  by 
Tory  writers,  and  which  is  therefore  neither  very 
new  nor  popular.  But  however  an  Englishman 
might  be  reproached  with  ingratitude  for  depreciat- 
ing the  merits  and  results  of  a  measure,  which  he 
is  taught  to  regai'd  as  the  source  of  his  liberties  — 

VOL.  II.  9 


130  CORRUPTION,    AND    INTOLERANCE. 

however  ungrateful  it  might  appear  in  Alderman 
B  —  reh  to  question  for  a  moment  the  purity  of  that 
glorious  era,  to  which  he  is  indebted  for  the  season- 
ing of  so  many  orations  —  yet  an  Irishman,  who  has 
none  of  these  obligations  to  acknowledge  ;  to  whose 
country  the  Revolution  brought  nothing  but  injury 
and  insult,  and  who  recollects  that  the  book  of  Moly- 
neux  was  burned,  by  order  of  AVilliam's  Whig  Par- 
liament, for  daring  to  extend  to  unfortunate  Ireland 
those  principles  on  which  the  Revolution  was  pro- 
fessedly founded —  an  Irishman  may  he  allowed  to 
criticize  freely  the  measures  of  that  period,  without 
exposing  himself  either  to  the  imputation  of  ingrati- 
tude, or  to  the  suspicion  of  being  influenced  by 
any  Popish  remains  of  Jacobitism.  No  nation, 
it  is  true,  was  ever  blessed  Avith  a  more  golden 
opportunity  of  establishing  and  securing  its  liberties 
for  ever  than  the  conjuncture  of  Eighty-eiglit  jire- 
sented  to  the  people  of  Great  Britain.  But  the 
disgraceful  reigns  of  Charles  and  James  had  weak- 
ened and  deirraded  the  national  character.  The  bold 
notions  of  popular  right,  which  liad  arisen  out  of  the 
struggles  between  Charles  the  First  and  his  Par- 
liament, were  gradually  sujiplanted  by  those  slavish 
doctrines  for  which  Lord  Ilawkesbury  eulogizes  the 
churchmen  of  that  period ;  and  as  the  Reformation 
had  happened  too  soon  for  the  purity  of  religion, 
so  the  Revolution  came  too  late  for  the  spirit  of 
liberty.  Its  advantages  accordingly  were  for  the 
most  part  specious  and  transitory,  while  the  evils 


PREFACE.  131 

■which  it  entailed  are  still  felt  and  still  increasing. 
By  rendering  unnecessary  the  frequent  exercise  of 
Prerogative,  —  that  unwieldly  power  which  cannot 
move  a  step  without  alarm,  —  it  diminished  the  only 
interference  of  the  Crown,  which  is  singly  and 
independently  exposed  before  the  people,  and  whose 
abuses  therefore  are  obvious  to  their  senses  and 
capacities.  Like  the  myrtle  over  a  celebrated  statue 
in  Minerva's  temple  at  Athens,  it  skilfully  veiled 
from  the  public  eye  the  only  obtrusive  feature  of 
royalty.  At  the  same  time,  however,  that  the  Eevo- 
lution  abridged  this  unpopular  attribute,  it  amply 
compensated  by  the  substitution  of  a  new  power,  as 
much  more  potent  in  its  effect  as  it  is  more  secret  in 
its  operations.  In  the  disposal  of  an  immense  revenue 
and  the  extensive  patronage  annexed  to  it,  the  first 
foundations  of  this  power  of  the  Crown  were  laid ; 
the  innovation  of  a  standing  army  at  once  increased 
and  strengthened  it,  and  the  few  shght  barriers  which 
the  Act  of  Settlement  opposed  to  its  progress  have 
all  been  gradually  removed  during  the  whiggish 
reigns  that  succeeded ;  till  at  length  this  spirit  of  in- 
fluence has  become  the  vital  principle  pf  the  state,  — 
an  agency,  subtle  and  unseen,  which  pervades  every 
part  of  the  Constitution,  lurks  under  all  its  forms 
and  regulates  all  its  movements,  and,  like  the  in\-is- 
ible  sylph  or  grace  which  presides  over  the  motions 
of  beauty, 

"lllam,  qnicquid  agit,  quoquo  vestigia  flectit, 
Componit  furtim  subsequiturqne." 


132  CORRUPTIOX,    AND    INTOLERANCE. 

The  cause  of  Liberty  and  the  Revolution  are  so 
ha1)itually  associated  in  the  minds  of  Englishmen, 
that  probably  in  objecting  to  the  latter  I  may  be 
thought  hostile  or  indifl'erent  to  the  former.  But 
assuredly  nothing  could  be  more  unjust  than  such 
a  suspicion.  The  very  oljject,  indeed,  which  my 
humble  animadversions  would  attain  is,  that  in  the 
crisis  to  which  I  think  England  is  now  hastening, 
and  between  which  and  foreign  subjugation  she  may 
soon  be  compelled  to  choose,  the  errors  and  omis- 
sions of  1688  should  be  remedied ;  and,  as  it  was 
then  her  fate  to  experience  a  Revolution  without 
Reform,  so  she  may  now  endeavour  to  accomplish  a 
Reform  without  Revolution. 

In  speaking  of  the  parties  which  have  so,  long 
agitated  England,  it  will  be  observed  that  I  lean  as 
little  to  the  Whigs  as  to  their  adversaries.  Both 
factions  have  been  equally  cruel  to  Ireland,  and 
perhaps  equally  insincere  in  their  efforts  for  the  lib- 
erties of  England.  There  is  one  name,  indeed,  con- 
nected with  whiggism,  of  which  I  can  never  think  but 
with  veneration  and  tenderness.  As  justly,  how- 
ever, might  the  light  of  the  sun  be  claimed  by  any 
particular  nation,  as  the  sanction  of  that  name  be 
monopolized  by  any  party  whatsoever.  Mr.  Fox 
belonged  to  mankind,  and  they  have  lost  in  him 
their  ablest  friend. 

With  respect  to  the  few  lines  upon  Intolerance, 
which  I  have  subjoined,  thoy  are  but  the  imperfect 
beginning  of  a  long  series  of  Essays,  with  which  I 


PREFACE.  133 

here  menace  my  readers,  upon  the  same  important 
subject.  I  shall  look  to  no  higher  merit  in  the  task, 
than  that  of  giving  a  new  form  to  claims  and  re- 
monstrances, Avliich  have  often  been  much  more 
eloquently  urged,  and  which  would  long  ere  now 
have  produced  their  effect,  but  that  the  minds  of 
some  of  our  statesmen,  like  the  pupil  of  the  human 
eye,  contract  themselves  the  more,  the  stronger  hght 
there  is  shed  upon  them. 


CORRUPTIOX. 

AX  EPISTLE. 

Svv  6'  uTravd'  uanep  e^  ayopac  EKTiCTtpaTai  ravra'  av-eiaTjKTOi 
6e  aviL  TOVTuv,  v<f  uv  anoku'M  km  vevoarjKev  ij  'EZ/lof.  Tavra 
<5'  ean  rt;  l^rj'^Mg,  ec  rii  ei?irj(t>e  rr  ye/Mg  av  6fio?j)-y7i'  avyyvufiT] 
TOiQ  e/xyxo^ei'Oig-  /iiaoc,  av  -ovroig  Tig  e~iTifia-  tojJxi  -avra, 
baa  EK  Tov  dupodoKeiv  rjprTj'ai. 

DsMOSTH.  Philipp.  iii. 

Boast  on,  my  friend  —  though  stript  of  all  beside, 
Thy  struggling  nation  still  retains  her  pride :  * 
That  pride,  which  once  in  genuine  glory  woke 
"When  Mtirlborough   fought,  and  brilliant  St.  John 

spoke  ; 
'That  pride  which  still,  by  time  and  shame  unstung, 
OutUves  even  Whitelocke's  sword  and  Hawkesb'ry's 

tongue ! 
Boast  on,  my  friend,  while  in  this  humbled  isle  f 
Where  Honour  mourns  and  Freedom  fears  to  smile, 

*  Angli  suos  ac  sua  omnia  impense  mirantur ;  creteras  nationes 
despectui  habent.  —  Barclay  (as  quoted  in  one  of  Dryden's 
prefaces). 

t  England  began  very  early  to  feel  the  effects  of  cruelty 
towards  her  dependencies.  "The  severity  of  her  government 
(says  Macpherson)  contributed  more  to  deprive  her  of  the  con- 
tinential  dominions  of  the  family  of  Plantagenet  than  the  arms 
of  France."  —  See  his  History,  vol.  i. 


136  CORUUPTION, 

Where  tlie  bright  light  of  England's  fame  is  known 
But  bv  the  shadow  o'er  our  fortunes  thrown  ; 
Where,  doom'd  ourselves  to  nouglit  but  wrongs  and 

slights, 
We  hoar  you  boast  of  Britain's  glorious  rights, 
As  wretched  slaves,  that  under  hatches  lie. 
Hear  those  on  deck  extol  the  sun  and  sky ! 
Boast  on,  while  wandering  through  my  native  haunts, 
I  coldly  listen  to  thy  patriot  vaunts ; 
And  feel,  though  close  our  wedded  countries  twine, 
More  sorrow  for  my  own  than  pride  from  thine. 

Yet  pause  a  moment  —  and  if  truths  severe 
Can  find  an  inlet  to  that  courtly  ear, 
Wiiich  hears  no  news  but  AVard's  gazetted  lies, 
And  loves  no  politics  in  rhyme  but  Pye's,  ^ — 
If  aught  can  please  thee  but  the  good  old  saws 
Of  '•  Church  and  State,"  and  "  William's  matchless 

laws," 
And  "  Acts  and  Rights  of  glorious  Eighty-eight," — 
Tilings,  which  though  now  a  century  out  of  date, 
Still  serve  to  ballast,  with  convenient  words, 
A  few  crank  ai'guments  for  speeching  lords,  — 
Turn,  while  I  tell  how  England's  freedom  found, 
AVhere  most  she  look'd  for  life,  her  deadliest  wound; 
How  brave  she  struggled,  wliile  her  foe  was  seen, 
How  faint  since  Influence  lent  that  foe  a  screen  ; 
How  sti-ong  o'er  James  and  Popeiy  she  prevail'd. 
How  weakly  fell,  when  Whigs  and  gold  assail'd. 


A   POETIC    EPISTLE.  137 

While  kings  were  poor,  and  all   those   schemes 
unknown 
Which  drain  the  people,  to  enrich  the  throne ; 
Ere  yet  a  yielding  Commons  had  supplied 
Those  chains  of  gold  by  which  themselves  are  tied ; 
Then  proud  Prerogative,  untaught  to  creep 
With  bribery's  silent  foot  on  freedom's  sleep, 
Frankly  avow'd  his  bold  enslaving  plan, 
And  claim'd  a  right  frona  God  to  trample  man ! 
But  Luther's  schism  had  too  much  rous'd  mankind 
For  Hampden's  truths  to  linger  long  behind ; 
Nor  then,  when  king-like  popes  had  fallen  so  low, 
Could  pope-like  kings  escape  the  levelling  blow. 
That  ponderous  sceptre  (in  whose  place  we  bow 
To  the  light  talisman  of  influence  now), 
Too  gross,  too  visible,  to  work  the  spell 
"\Miich  modern  jjower  performs,  in  fragments  fell : 
In  fragments  lay,  till,  patch'd  and  painted  o'er 
With  fleurs-de-lys,  it  shone  and  scourged  once  more. 

'Twas  then,  my  friend,  thy  kneeling  nation  quaflTd 
Long,  long  and  deep,  the  churchman's  opiate  draught 
Of  passive,  prone  obedience  —  then  took  flight 
All  sense  of  man's  true  dignity  and  right ; 
And  Britons  slept  so  sluggish  in  their  chain, 
That  Freedom's  watch-voice  call'd  almost  in  vain. 
Oh  England !  England  !  what  a  chance  was  thine. 
When  the  last  tyrant  of  that  ill-starr'd  line 
Fled  from  his  sullied  crown,  and  left  thee  free 
To  found  thy  own  eternal  liberty ! 


138  CORRUPTION, 

How  nobly  liigl;,  in  tliat  propitious  hour, 

Might  jtatriot  hands  have  rais'd  the  triple  tower 

Of  British  t'reedoin,  on  a  rock  divine 

Which  neither  force  could  storm  nor  treachery  mine ! 

But  no  —  the  luminous,  the  lofty  plan, 

Like  mighty  Babel,  seem'd  too  bold  for  man ; 

The  curse  of  jarring  tongues  again  was  given 

To  thwart  a  work  which  raised  men  nearer  heaven. 

While  Tories  marr'd  what  Whigs  had  scarce  begun, 

While  Whigs  undid  what  Whigs    themselves   had 

done. 
The  hour  was  lost,  and  William,  with  a  smile. 
Saw  Freedom  weeping  o'er  the  unfinish'd  pile ! 

Hence  all  the  ills  you  suffer,  —  hence  remain 
Such  galling  fragments  of  that  feudal  chain, 
Whose  links,  around  you  by  the  Norman  flung. 
Though  loosed  and  broke  so  often,  still  have  clung. 
Hence  sly  Prerogative,  like  Jove  of  old. 
Has  turn'd  his  thunder  into  showers  of  gold. 
Whose  silent  courtship  wins  securer  joys,* 
Taints  by  degrees,  and  ruins  without  noise. 
While  parliaments,  no  more  those  sacred  things 
Which  make  and  rule  the  destiny  of  kings, 
Like  loaded  dice  by  ministers  are  thi'own. 
And  each  new  set  of  sharpers  cog  their  own. 

*  fore  enim  tutum  iter  et  patens 


Converso  in  pretium  Deo. 
Aurum  per  medics  ire  satellites,  etc. 

Jlorat. 


A   POETIC    EPISTLE.  139 

Hence  the  rich  oil,  that  from  the  Treasury  steals, 
Drips  smooth  o'er  all  the  Constitution's  wheels. 
Giving  the  old  machine  such  pliant  play. 
That  Court  and  Conunons  jog  one  joltless  way, 
While  Wisdom  trembles  for  the  crazy  car, 
So  gilt,  so  rotten,  carrying  fools  so  far ; 
And  the  duped  people,  hourly  doom'd  to  pay 
The  sums  that  bribe  their  liberties  away,  — 
Like  a  young  eagle,  avIio  has  lent  his  plume 
To  Hedge  the  shaft  by  which  he  meets  his  doom,  — 
See  their  own  feathers  pluck'd,  to  wing  the  dart 
Which  rank  corruption, destines  for  their  heart! 
But  soft !  methinks  I  hear  thee  proudly  say, 
"  What !  shall  I  listen  to  the  impious  lay, 
"  That  dares,  with  Tory  license,  to  profane 
"  The  bright  bequests  of  William's  glorious  reign  ? 
"  Shall  the  great  wisdom  of  our  patriot  sires, 
"  Whom  Hawkesbury  quotes  and  savoury  Birch  ad- 
mires, 
"  Be  slander'd  thus  ?  shall  honest  Steele  agree 
"  With  virtuous  Rose  to  call  us  pure  and  free, 
"  Yet  fail  to  prove  it  ?     Shall  our  patent  pair 
"  Of  wise  state-poets  waste  their  words  in  air, 
"And  Pye  unheeded  breathe' his  prosperous  strain, 
"  And  Canning  take  the  people's  sense  in  vain  ?  " 

The  people  I  —  ah,  that  Freedom's  form  should 
stay 
Where  Freedom's  spirit  long  hath  pass'd  away ! 


140  CORRUPTION, 

That  a  fal.^c  smile  should  play  around  the  dead, 
And  Husii  the  features  when  the  soul  hath  lied  ! 
When  Rome  had  lost  her  virtue  with  her  rights, 
When  her  foul  tyrant  sat  on  Caprece's  heights  * 
Amid  his  ruffian  spies,  and  doom'd  to  death 
Eaeh  noble  name  they  blasted  with  their  breath,  — 
Even  then,  (in  mockery  of  that  golden  time, 
When  the  Republic  rose  revered,  sublime, 
And  her  proud  sons,  diffused  from  zone  to  zone. 
Gave  kings  to  every  nation  but  their  own,) 
Even  then  the  senate  and  the  tribunes  stood, 
Insulting  marks,  to  show  how  high  the  flood 
Of  Freedom  flow'd,  in  glory's  by-gone  day, 
And  how  it  ebb'd,  —  forever  ebb'd  away  ! 

Look  but  around  —  though  yet  a  tyrant's  sword 
Nor  haunts  our  sleep  nor  glitters  o'er  our  board, 
Though  blood  be  better  drawn,  by  modern  quacks. 
With  Treasury  leeches  than  with  sword  or  axe  ; 
Yet  say,  could  even  a  prostrate  tribune's  power, 
Or  a  mock  senate,  in  Rome's  servile  hour. 
Insult  so  much  the  claims,  the  rights  of  man. 
As  doth  that  fetter'd  mob,  that  free  divan, 

Tutor  haberi 

rrincipis,  Augusta  Caprearum  in  rupe  sedentis 
Cum  grcge  Chaldajo.  Juvenal.  Sat.  x.  v.  92. 

The  senate  still  continued,  during  the  reign  of  Tiberius,  to  man- 
age all  the  business  of  the  public ;  the  money  was  then  and  long 
after  coined  by  their  authority,  and  every  other  public  aflair 
received  their  sanction. 


A   POETIC    EPISTLE.  141 

Of  noble  tools  and  honourable  knaves, 
Of  jaension'd  patriots  and  privileged  slaves  ;  — 
That  party-colour'd  mass,  which  nought  can  -warm 
But  rank  corruption's  heat  —  whose  quicken'd  swarm 
Spread  their  light  Avings  in  Bribery's  golden  sky, 
Buzz  for  a  period,  lay  their  eggs,  and  die  ;  — 
That  greedy  vampire,  which  from  Freedom's  tomb 
Comes  forth,  with  all  the  mimicry  of  bloom 
Upon  its  lifeless  cheek,  and  sucks  and  drains 
A  people's  blood  to  feed  its  putrid  veins  ! 

Thou  start'st,  my  friend,  at  picture  drawn  so  dark  — 
"  Is  there  no  light  ?  "  thou  ask'st  —  "  no  lingering 

spark 
"  Of  ancient  fire  to  warm  us  ?     Lives  there  none, 
"  To  act  a  Marvell's  part  ?  "  *  —  alas  !  not  one. 
To  place  and  power  all  public  spirit  tends, 
In  place  and  power  all  public  spirit  ends  ;  f 

*  Andrew  Marvell,  the  honest  opposer  of  the  court  during  the 
reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  and  the  last  member  of  parliament 
who,  according  to  the  ancient  mode,  took  wages  from  his  con- 
stituents. The  Commons  have,  since  then,  much  changed  their 
pay-masters.  —  See  the  State  Poems  for  some  rude  but  spirited 
effusions  of  Andrew  Marvell. 

t  The  following  artless  speech  of  Sir  Francis  Winnington,  in 
the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  will  amuse  those  who  are  fully 
aware-of  the  perfection  we  have  since  attained  in  that  system 
of  government  whose  humble  beginnings  so  much  astonished 
the  worthy  baronet.  "I  did  observe  (says  he)  that  all  those  who 
had  pensions,  and  most  of  those  who  had'  offices,  voted  all  of  a 
side,  as  they  were  directed  by  some  gi-eat  officer,  exactly  as  if 
their  business  in  this  House  had  been  to  preserve  their  pensions 
and  offices,  and  not  to  make  laws  for  the  good  of  them  who  sent 


142  CORRUPTION, 

Like  liardj  plants,  that  love  the  air  and  sky, 
"When  out,  'twill  thrive  —  but  taken  in,  'twill  die! 

Not  bolder  truths  of  sacred  Freedom  hung 
From  Sidney's  pen  or  burn'd  on  Fox's  tongue, 
Than  upstart  Whigs  produce  each  market-night, 
Wiiile  yet  their  conscience,  as  their  purse,  is  light ; 
While  debts  at  home  excite  their  care  for  those 
AVhich,  dire  to  tell,  their  much  lov'd  country  owes, 
And  loud  and  upright,  till  their  prize  be  known, 
They  Jhwart  the  King's  supplies  to  raise  their  own. 
But  bees,  on  flowei's  alighting,  cease  their  hum  — 
So,  settling  upon  places,  Whigs  grow  dumb. 
And,  though  most  base  is  he  who,  'neath  the  shade 
Of  Freedom's  ensign  plies  corruption's  trade. 
And  makes  the  sacred  flag  he  dares  to  show 
His  passport  to  the  market  of  her  foe. 
Yet,  yet,  I  own,  so  venerably  dear 
Are  Freedom's  grave  old  anthems  to  my  ear, 
That  I  enjoy  them,  though  by  traitors  sung. 
And  reverence  Scripture  even  from  Satan's  tongue. 
Nay,  when  the  constitution  has  expired, 
I'll  have  such  men,  like  Irish  wakers,  hired 
To  chant  old  •'  Habeas  Corpus  "  by  its  side. 
And  ask,  in  purchas'd  ditties,  why  it  died  ? 

See  yon  smooth  lord,  whom  nature's  plastic  pains 
Would  seem  to've  foshion'd  for  those  Eastern  reigns 


'o' 


tbom  here."  — He  alludes  to  that  Parliament  which  was  called, 
par  excellence,  the  Pensionary  Parliament. 


A   POETIC    EPISTLE.  143 

"When  ennuclis  flourish'd,  and  sucli  nerveless  things 

As  men  rejected  were  the  chosen  of  kings  ;  — 

Even  he,  forsooth,  (oh  fraud,  of  all  the  worst !) 

Dared  to  assume  the  patriot's  name  at  first  — 

Thus  Pitt  began,  and  thus  begin  his  apes ; 

Thus  devils,  when^rs^  raised,  take  pleasing  shapes. 

But  ohj  poor  Ireland !  if  revenge  be  sweet 

For  centuries  of  wrong,  for  dark  deceit 

And  withering  insult  —  for  the  Union  throAvn 

Into  thy  bitter  cup,*  when  that  alone 

Of  slavery's  draught  was  wanting  —  if  for  this 

Revenge  be  sweet,  thou  Jiast  that  daemon's  bliss ; 

For  sure,  'tis  more  than  hell's  revenge  to  see 

That  England  trusts  the  men  who've  ruin'd  thee;  — 

That,  in  these  awful  days,  when  every  hour 

Creates  some  new  or  blasts  some  ancient  poAver, 

When  proud  Napoleon,  like  th'  enchanted  shield  f 

Whose  light  compell'd  each  wondering  foe  to  yield, 

With  baleful  lustre  blinds  the  brave  and  free, 

And  dazzles  Europe  into  slavery, — 

*  "  And  in  the  cup  an  Union  shall  be  thrown." 

Ilamht. 
t  The  magician's  shield  in  Ariosto:  — 

E  tolto  per  vertii  dello  splendore 
La  libertate  a  loro.  Cant.  2. 

We  are  told  that  Cresar's  code  of  morality  was  contained  in  the 
following  lines  of  Euripides,  which  that  great  man  frequently- 
repeated  :  — 

Ymep  yap  admew  xpv  Tvpavvi6og  Tvept 
Ka?MaTov  adiKEiv  T'a?i?M  d'evaejSav  xp^^^'"- 
This  is  also,  as  it  appears,  the  moral  code  of  Napoleon. 


144  CORRUPTION,   A   POETIC    EPISTLE. 

Tliat,  in  this  hour,  Avhen  patriot  zeal  should  cuide, 
"Wlic'U  Mind  should  rule,  and  —  Fox  should  nut  have 
All  that  devoted  England  can  oppose  [died, 

To  enemies  made  fiends  and  friends  made  foes, 
Is  the  rank  refuse,  the  despised  remains 
Of  that  unpitying  power,  whose  whips  and  chains 
Drove  Ireland  first  to  turn,  with  harlot  glance, 
Tow'rds    other    shores,    and    woo    th'    embrace    of 

France ;  — 
Those  hack'd  and  tainted  tools,  so  foully  fit 
For  the  grand  ai'tisan  of  mischief,  Pitt, 
So  useless  ever  but  in  vile  employ, 
So  weak  to  save,  so  vigorous  to  destroy  — 
Such  are  the  men  that  guard  thy  threaten'd  shore, 
Oh  England !  sinking  England  !  *  boast  no  more. 

*  The  following  prophetic  remarks  occur  in  a  letter  written 
by  Sir  Robert  Talbot,  who  attended  the  Duke  of  Beilford  to 
Paris  in  17G2.  Talking  of  states  which  have  grown  powerful 
in  commerce,  he  says,  "  According  to  the  nature  and  common 
course  of  things,  there  is  a  confederacy  against  them,  and  con- 
sequently in  the  same  proportion  as  they  increase  in  riches,  they 
approach  to  destruction.  The  address  of  our  King  William,  in 
making  all  Europe  take  the  alarm  at  France,  has  brought  that 
country  before  us  near  that  inevitable  period.  We  must  nec- 
essarily have  our  turn,  and  Great  Britain  will  attain  it  as  soon 
as  France  shall  have  a  declaimer  with  organs  as  proper  for  that 

political  purpose  as  were  those  of  our  William  the  Third 

Without  doubt,  my  Lord,  Great  Britain  must  lower  her  flight. 
Europe  will  remind  us  of  the  balance  of  commerce,  as  she  has 
reminded  France  of  the  balance  of  power.  The  address  of'our 
statesmen  will  immortalize  them  by  contriving  for  us  a  descent 
which  shall  not  be  a  fall,  by  making  us  rather  resemble  Holland 
than  Carthage  and  Venice."  — Letters  on  the  French  Nation, 


INTOLERANCE. 

A   SATIRE. 

"  This  clamour,  which  pretends  to  be  raised  for  the  safety  of  religion, 
has  almost  worn  out  the  very  appearance  of  it,  and  rendered  us  not  only 
the  most  diyided  but  the  most  immoral  people  upon  the  face  of  the  earth." 

Addison,  Freeholder,  No.  37. 

Start  not,  my  friend,  nor  think  the  Muse  will  stain 
Her  classic  fingers  with  the  dust  profane 
Of  Bulls,  Decrees,  and  all  those  thundering  scrolls, 
Which  took  such  freedom  once  witS  royal  souls. 
When  heaven  was  yet  the  pope's  exclusive  trade, 
And  kings  were  damned  as  fast  as  now  they  're  made. 
No,  no  —  let  Duigenan  search  the  papal  chair  * 
For  fragrant  treasures  long  forgotten  there  ; 
And,  as  the  witch  of  sunless  Lapland  thinks 
That  little  swarthy  gnomes  delight  in  stinks, 
Let  sallow  Perceval  snuff  up  the  gale 
Which  wizard  Duigenan's  gather'd  sweets  exhale. 
Enough  for  me,  whose  heart  has  leam'd  to  scom 
Bigots  alike  in  Rome  or  England  born, 

*  The  "  Sella  Stercoraria"  of  the  popes.  —  The  Eight  Hon-* 
curable  and  learned  Doctor  will  find  an  engravhig  of  this 
chair  in  Spanheim's  "  Disquisitio  Historica  de  Papa  Foemina" 
(p.  118);  and  I  recommend  it  as  a  model  for  the  fashion  of  that 
seat  •which  the  Doctor  is  about  to  take  in  the  privy-council  of 
Ireland. 

VOL.  U.  10 


14G  INTOLERANCE, 

Who  loathe  the  venom,  whencesoe'er  it  springs, 
From  ])opes  or  lawyers,  pastry-cooks  or  kings,  — 
Enough  for  me  to  laugh  and  weep  by  turns, 
As  mirth  provokes,  or  indignation  burns, 
As  Canning  vapours,  or  as  France  succeeds, 
As  Hawkesb'ry  proses,  or  as  Ireland  bleeds  ! 

And  thou,  my  friend,  if,  in  these  headlong  days, 
When  bigot  Zeal  her  drunken  antics  plays 
So  near  a  precipice,  that  men  the  while 
Look  breathless  on  and  shudder  while  they  smile  — 
If,  in  such  fearful  days,  thou  'It  dare  to  look 
To  hapless  Ireland,  to  this  rankling  nook 
AVhich  Heaven  Jiath  freed  from  poisonous  things  in 

Aain, 
While    Gilford's    tongue  and   Musgrave's   pen    re- 
main — 
If  thou  hast  yet  no  golden  blinkers  got 
To  shade  thine  eyes  from  this  devoted  spot. 
Whose  wrongs,  though  blazon'd  o'er  the  world  they 

be, 
Placemen  alone  are  privileged  not  to  see  — 
Oh  !  turn  awliile,  and,  though  the  shamrock  wreathes 
My  homely  liarp,  yet  shall  the  song  it  bi-eathes 
Of  Ireland's  slavery,  and  of  Ireland's  woes, 
Live,  when  the  memory  of  her  tyrant  foes 
Shall  l)ut  exist,  all  future  knaves  to  warn, 
Embalm'd  in  hate  and  canonized  by  scorn. 
When  Castlereagh,  in  sleep  still  more  profound 
Than  his  own  opiate  tongue  now  deals  around. 


A    SATIRE.  147 

Shall  wait  tli'  impeachment  of  that  awful  day 
Which  even  his  practiced  hand  can't  bribe  away. 

Yes,  my  dear  friend,  wert  thou  but  near  me  now, 
To  see  how  Spring  lights  up  on  Erin's  brow 
Smiles  that  shine  out,  unconquerably  fail-, 
Even   though   the   blood-marks   left   by   Camden* 

there,  — 
Could'st  thou  but  see  what  verdure  paints  the  sod 
Wliich  none  but  tyrants  and  their  slaves  have  trod. 
And  didst  thou  know  the  spirit,  kind  and  brave, 
That  warms  the  soul  of  each  insulted  slave. 
Who,  tired  with  struggling,  sinks  beneath  his  lot, 
And  seems  by  all  but  watchful  France  forgot  f  — 
Thy  heart  would  burn — yes,  even  thy  Pittite  heart 
Would  burn,  to  think  that  such  a  blooming  part 
Of  tlie  world's  garden,  rich  in  nature's  charms, 
And  fiU'd  with  social  souls  and  vigorous  arms, 

*  Not  the  Camden  who  speaks  thus  of  Ireland:  — 
"  To  wind  up  all,  whether  we  regard  the  fruitfulness  of  the 
soil,  tlie  advantage  of  the  sea,  with  so  many  commodious  havens, 
or  the  natives  themselves,  who  are  warlike,  ingenious,  handsome, 
and  well-complexioned,  soft-skinned,  and  verj-  nimble,  by  reason 
of  the  pliantness  of  their  muscles,  this  Island  is  in  many  respects 
so  happy,  that  Giraldus  might  very  well  say,  '  Nature  had  re- 
garded with  more  favourable  eyes  than  ordinary  this  Kingdom 
of  Zephyr.' " 

t  The  example  of  toleration,  which  Bonaparte  has  held  forth, 
will,  I  fear,  produce  no  other  effect  than  that  of  determining  the 
British  government  to  persist,  from  the  very  spirit  of  opposition, 
in  their  own  old  system  of  intolerance  and  injustice;  just  as  the 
Siamese  blacken  their  teeth,  "because,"  as  they  say,  "  the  devil 
has  white  ones." 


148  INTOLEUAN-CK, 

Should  be  the  victim  of  that  canting  crow, 

So  smooth,  so  godly,  —  yet  so  devilish  too; 

Who,   arin'd    at   once    with    prayerbooks    and   with 

whips, 
Blood  on  their  hands,  and  Scripture  on  their  lips, 
Tyrants  by  creed,  and  torturers  by  text, 
Make  this  life  hell,  in  lionour  of  the  next ! 
Your    Redesdales,    Percevals,  —  great,    glorious 

Heaven, 
If  I'm  presumptuous,  be  my  tongue  forgiven, 
When  here  I  swear,  by  my  soul's  hope  of  rest, 
I  'd  rather  have  been  born,  ere  man  was  blest 
With  the  pure  dawn  of  Revelation's  light, 
Yes,  —  rather  plunge  me  back  in  Pagan  night 
And  take  my  chance  with  Socrates  for  bliss, 
Than  be  the  Christian  of  a  faith  like  this. 
Which  builds  on  heavenly  cant  its  earthly  sway, 
And  in  a  convert  mourns  to  lose  a  prey ; 
Which,  grasping  human  hearts  with  double  hold,  — 
Like  Daniie's  lover  mixing  god  and  gold,  — 
Corrupts  both  state  and  church,  and  makes  an  oath 
The  knave  and  atheist's  passport  into  both ; 
Wliich,  Avhile  it  dooms  dissenting  souls  to  know 
Nor  bliss  above  nor  liberty  below, 
Adds  the  slave's  suffering  to  the  sinner's  fear. 
And,  lest  he  'scape  hereafter,  racks  him  here  ! 
But  no  —  far  other  faith,  far  milder  beams 
Of  heavenly  justice  warm  the  Christian's  dreams  ; 
His  creed  is  writ  on  Mercy's  page  above, 
By  the  pure  hands  of  all-atoning  Love  ; 


A    SATIRE.  149 

He  weeps  to  see  abused  Religion  twine 
Round  Tyranny's  coarse  brow  her  Avreath  divine ; 
And  he,  while  round  him  sects  and  nations  raise 
To  the  one  God  their  varying  notes  of  praise, 
Blesses  each  voice,  whate'er  its  tone  may  be, 
That  serves  to  swell  the  general  harmony.* 

Such  was  the  spirit,  gently,  gi-andly  bright, 
That  fill'd,  oh  Fox  !  thy  peaceful  soul  with  light ; 
While  free  and  spacious  as  that  ambient  air 
Which  folds  our  planet  in  its  circling  care, 
The  mighty  sphere  of  thy  transparent  mind 
Embraced  the  world,  and  breathed  for  all  mankind. 
Last  of  the  great,  farewell!  —  yet  not  the  last  — 
Though  Britain's  sunshine  hour  with  thee  be  past, 
lerne  still  one  ray  of  glory  gives. 
And  feels  but  half  thy  loss  while  Grattan  lives. 

*  "  La  tolerance  est  la  chose  du  monde  la  plus  propre  a  rarae- 
ner  le  siecle  d'or,  et  a  faire  ua  concert  et  uoe  barinonie  de  plu- 
sieurs  voix  et  instruments  de  diflf^rens  tons  et  notes,  aussi  agre- 
able  pour  le  moins  que  I'uniformite  d'une  seule  voix."  Bavle, 
Commentaire  Philosophique,  etc.  part  ii.  chap.  vi. 


THE   SCEPTIC, 

A  PHILOSOPHICAL   SATIRE. 


^0/j.ov  TvavTuv  i3aai?.Ea. 

PiSDAR.  ap.  Herodot.  lib.  iii. 


PREFACE. 


The  Sceptical  Philosophy  of  the  Ancients  has 
been  no  less  misrepresented  than  the  Epicurean. 
Pyrrho  may  perhaps  have  carried  it  to  rather  an 
irrational  excess;  —  but  we  must  not  believe,  with 
Beattie,  all  the  absurdities  imputed  to  this  philoso- 
pher ;  and  it  appears  to  me  that  the  doctrines  of  the 
school,  as  explained  by  Sextus  Empiricus,*  are  far 
more  suited  to  the  wants  and  infirmities  of  human 
reason,  as  well  as  more  conducive  to  the  mild  virtues 
of  humility  and  patience,  than  any  of  those  systems 
of  philosophy  which  preceded  the  introduction  of 
Christianity.  The  Sceptics  may  be  said  to  have 
held  a  middle  path  between  the  Dogmatists  and 
Academicians ;  the  former  of  whom  boasted  that 
they  had  attained  the  truth,  while  the  latter  denied 
that  any  attainable  truth  existed.  The  Sceptics, 
however,  without  either  asserting  or  denying  its 
existence,  professed  to  be  modestly  and  anxiously  in 
search  of  it ;  or,  as  St.  Augustine  expresses  it,  in  his 
liberal  tract  against  the   Manichseans,  "nemo  nos- 

*  Pyrrh.  Hj^joth.  —  The  reader  may  find  a  tolerably  clear  ab- 
stract of  this  work  of  Sextus  Empiricus  in  La  Yerite  des  Sci- 
ences, by  Mercenne,  liv.  i.  chap.  ii.  etc. 


154  THE   SCEPTIC. 

trum  dicat  jam  se  invcnisse  veritatem ;  sic  earn 
quierainus  quasi  ab^  iit risque  ncsciatur."  *  From 
this  habit  of  impartial  investigation,  and  the  neces- 
sity whicli  it  inqjosed  upon  them,  of  studying  not 
only  every  system  of  philosophy,  but  every  art  and 
science,  which  professed  to  lay  its  basis  in  truth, 
they  necessarily  took  a  wider  range  of  erudition, 
and  were  far  more  travelled  in  the  regions  of  phi- 
losophy than  those  whom  conviction  or  bigotry  had 
domesticated  in  any  particular  system.  It  inquired 
all  the  learning  of  dogmatism  to  overtlu'ow  the  dog- 
matism of  learning ;  and  the  Sceptics  may  be  said 
to  resemble,  in  this  respect,  that  ancient  incendiary, 
who  stole  from  the  altar  the  fire  with  which  he 
destroyed  the  temple.  This  advantage  over  all  the 
other  sects  is  allowed  to  them  even  by  Lipsius, 
whose  treatise  on  the  miracles  of  the  Virgo  Hallen- 
sis  will  sufficiently  save  him  from  all  suspicion  of 
scepticism.  "Lahore,  ingenio,  memoria,"  he  says, 
"  supra  omnes  pene  philosophos  fursse.  —  Quid  nonne 
Omnia  aliorum  secta  tenere  debuerunt  et  inquirere, 
si  poterunt  refellere?  res  dicit.  Nonne  orationes 
▼arias,  raras,  subtiles  inveniri  ad  tarn  receptas, 
claras,  certas  (ut  videbatur)  sententias  everten- 
das  ?  "  etc.  etct  —  Manuduct.  ad  Pht'losoph.  Stoic. 
Dissert.  4. 

*  Lil).  contra  Epist.  ^lanicliwi  quara  vocant  Fundamenti,  Op. 
Paris,  torn.  vi. 

t  See  ihirtiii.  Schoockius  de  Scepticismo,  -who  endeavours, 
— -vveukly,  I  think,  —  to  refute  tliis  opinion  of  Lipsius. 


PREFACE.  155 

Between  the  scepticism  of  the  ancients  and  the 
moderns   the   great   difference  is,  that  the    former 
doubted  for  the  purpose   of  investigating,  as  may 
be  exemphfied  by  the  third  book  of  Aristotle's  Meta- 
physics *  while  the  latter  investigate  for  the  purpose 
of  doubting,  as  may  be  seen  through  most  of  the 
philosophical  works  of  Hume.f     Indeed,  the  Pyr- 
rhonism of  latter  days  is  not  only  more  subtle  than 
that  of  antiquity,  but,  it  must  be   confessed,  more 
dangerous   in   its   tendency.     The   happiness    of  a 
Christian  depends  so  essentially  upon  his  belief,  that 
it  is  but  natural  he  should  feel  alarm  at  the  progress 
of  doubt,  lest  it  should  steal  by  degrees  into  that  re- 
gion from  which  he  is  most  interested  in  excluding  it, 
and  poison  at  last  the  very  spring  of  his  consolation 
and  hope.     Still,  however,  the  abuses  of  doubting 
ought  not  to  deter  a  philosophical  mind  from  indulg- 
ing mildly  and  rationally  in  its  use;  and  there  is 
nothing,  surely,  more  consistent  with  the  meek  spirit 
of  Christianity,  than  that  humble  scepticism  which 
professes  not  to  extend  its  distrust  beyond  the  circle  c^f 
human  pursuits,  and  the  pretensions  of  human  knowl- 
edge.    A  follower  of  this  school  may  be  among  the 
readiest  to   admit  the  claims    of  a  superintending 

*  Ban  f5e  tome  v-opTjaat  (ioiQ.oiievoig  Trpovpyov  to  6ia~opi]aai 
Kalug.  —  Meiaplnjs.  lib.  iii.  cap.  1. 

t  Neither  Hume,  however,  nor  Berkelej',  are  to  be  judged  by 
the  misrepresentations  of  Beattle,  whose  book,  however  amiably 
intended,  puts  forth  a  most  unphilosophical  appeal  to  popular 
feelings  and  prejudices,  and  is  a  continued  petitio  prindpii 
throughout. 


156  THE    SCEPTIC. 

Intelligence  upon  his  fuitli  and  adoration :  it  is  only 
to  the  wisdom  of  this  weak  world  that  he  refuses,  or 
at  least  delays,  his  assent ;  —  it  is  only  in  passing 
through  the  shadow  of  earth  that  his  mind  under- 
goes the  eclipse  of  scepticism.  No  follower  of  Pyrrho 
has  ever  spoken  more  strongly  against  the  dogmatists 
than  St.  Paul  himself,  in  the  First  Ei)istle  to  the 
Corinthians ;  and  there  are  passages  in  Ecclesiastes 
and  other  parts  of  Scripture,  which  justify  our  utmost 
diffidence  in  all  that  human  reason  originates.  Even 
the  Sceptics  of  antiquity  refrained  carefully  from  the 
mysteries  of  theology,  and,  in  entering  the  temples  of 
religion,  laid  aside  their  philosophy  at  the  porch. 
Sextus  Empiricus  thus  declares  the  acquiescence  of 
his  sect  in  the  general  belief  of  a  divine  and  fore- 
knowing Power: —  YJo  ftev  ^loj  }tuTuy.o).ov{^ovrres 
ado^aaroig  cpa^isv  eivai  -O^sovg  x«(  GeO^ofiev  {^eovg  xai 
\  nQovoEiv  avtovg  cpan^v*  In  short,  it  appears  to  me, 
\  that  this  rational  and  well-regulated  scepticism  is 
.the  only  daughter  of  the  Schools  that  can  safely  be 
selected  as  a  handmaid  for  Piety.  He  who  distrusts 
the  light  of  reason,  will  be  the  first  to  follow  a  more 
luminous  guide  ;  and  if,  with  an  ardent  love  for  truth, 
he  has  sought  her  in  vain  through  the  ways  of  this 
life,  he  w^ll  but  turn  with  the  more  hojie  to  that 
better  world,  where  all  is  sim[)le,  true,  and  everlast- 
ing: for,  there  is  no  parallax  at  the  zenith;  —  it 
is  only  near  our  troubled  horizon  that  objects  de- 
ceive us  into  vague  and  erroneous  calculations. 


o 


»  Lib.  iii.  cap.  1. 


THE    SCEPTIC. 

As  the  gay  tint  that  decks  the  vernal  rose, 

Not  in  the  flower,  but  in  our  vision  glows ; 

As  the  ripe  flavour  of  Falernian  tides, 

Not  in  the  wine,  but  in  our  taste  resides  ; 

So  when,  with  heartfelt  tribute,  we  declare 

That  Marco's  honest  and  that  Susan's  fair, 

'Tis  in  our  minds,  and  not  in  Susan's  eyes 

Or  Marco's  life,  the  worth  or  beauty  lies : 

For  she,  in  flat-nosed  China,  would  appear 

As  plain  a  thing  as  Lady  Anne  is  here  ; 

And  one  light  joke  at  rich  Loretto's  dome 

Would  rank  good  Marco  with  the  damn'd  at  Rome. 

There's  no  deformity  so  vile,  so  base. 
That  't  is  not  somewhere  thought  a  charm,  a  grace ; 
No  foul  reproach,  that  may  not  steal  a  beam 
From  other  suns,  to  bleach  it  to  esteem. 
Ask,  who  is  wise?  —  you'll  find  the  self-same  man 
A  sage  in  France,  a  madman  in  Japan  ; 
And  liere  some  head  beneath  a  mitre  swells, 
"Which  there  had  tingled  to  a  cap  and  bells : 
Nay,  there  may  yet  some  monstrous  region  be. 
Unknown  to  Cook,  and  from  Napoleon  free, 


158  THE    SCEPTIC, 

Where  Castleveagh  would  for  a  patriot  [)as5, 
And  mouthing  Musgrave  scarce  be  deeni'd  an  ass ! 

"  List  not  to  reason  (Epicurus  cries), 
"  But  trust  the  senses,  there  conviction  lies  : "  —  * 
Alas  !  they  judge  not  by  a  purer  light, 
Nor  keep  their  fountains  more  untinged  and  bright ; 


*  This  was  the  creed  also  of  those  modern  Epicureans,  -whom 
Ninon  de  I'Enclos  collected  around  her  in  the  Rue  des  Tournelles, 
and  whose  object  seems  to  have  been  to  decry  the  faculty  of 
reason,  as  tending  only  to  embarrass  our  wholesome  use  of  pleas- 
ures, without  enabling  us,  in  any  degree,  to  avoid  their  abuse. 
JIadam  des  Houli6res,  the  fair  pupil  of  Des  Barreaux  in  the  arts 
of  poetry  and  gallantry,  has  devoted  most  of  her  verses  to  this 
laudable  purpose,  and  is  even  such  a  determined  foe  to  reason, 
that,  in  one  of  her  pastorals,  she  congratulates  her  sheep  on  the 
want  of  it.     St.  Evremont  speaks  thus  upon  the  subject:  — 

"  Un  mdiange  incertain  d'esprit  et  de  maticre 
Nous  fait  vivre  avec  trop  ou  trop  peu  de  lumiire. 

Nature,  eI6ve-nous  u  la  clartd  des  anges, 

Ou  nous  abaissc  au  sens  des  simples  aiiimaux." 

Which  may  be  thus  paraphrased :  — 

Had  man  been  made,  at  nature's  birth, 

Of  only  flame  or  only  earth. 

Had  he  been  fonn'd  a  perfect  whole 

Of  purely  ihai^  or  grossly  this, 
Then  sense  would  ne'er  have  clouded  soul. 

Nor  soul  restrain'd  the  sense's  bliss. 
Oh  happy,  had  his  light  been  strong. 

Or  had  he  never  shared  a  light, 
Which  shines  enough  to  show  he's  wrong, 

But  not  enourfi  to  lead  him  right. 


A    SATIRE.  159 

Habit  so  mars  them,  that  the  Russian  swain 
Will  sigh  for  train-oil,  while  he  sips  Champagne  ; 
And  health  so  rules  them,  that  a  fever's  heat 
"Would  make  even  Sheridan  think  water  sweet. 

Just  as  the  mind  the  erring  sense  believes, 
The  erring  mind,  in  turn,  the  sense  deceives ; 
And  cold  disgust  can  find  but  wrinkles  there, 
Where  passion  fancies  all  that's  smooth  and  fair. 
P  *  *  *  *,  who  sees,  upon  his  pillow  laid, 
A  face  for  which  ten  thousand  pounds  were  paid, 
Can  tell,  how  quick  before  a  jury  flies 
The  spell  that  mock'd  the  warm  seducer's  eyes. 

Self  is  the  medium  through  which  Judgment's  ray 
Can  seldom  pass  without  being  turn'd  astray. 
The  smith  of  Ephesus  *  thought  Dian's  shrine, 
By  which  his  craft  most  throve,  the  most  divine ; 
And  ev'n  the'true  faith  seems  not  half  so  true, 
When  link'd  with  one  good  living  as  with  Uvo. 
Had  Woleot  first  been  pension'd  by  the  throne, 
Kings  would  have  sufFer'd  by  his  praise  alone  ; 
And  Paine  perhaps,  for  something  snug  per  ann., 
Had  laugh'd,  like  Wellesley,  at  all  Rights  of  Man. 

But  'tis  not  only  individual  minds, — 
Whole  nations,  too,  the  same  delusion  blinds. 

*  Acts,  chap.  xix.  "  For  a  certain  man  named  Demetrius,  a 
silversmith,  which  made  silver  shrines  for  Diana,  brought  no 
small  gain  unto  the  craftsmen." 


160  THE    SCEPTIC, 

Thus  England,  liot  from  Denmark's  smoking  meads, 
Turns  u[)  her  eyes  at  Gallia's  guilty  deeds ; 
Thus,  self-pleas'd  still,  the  same  dishonouring  chain 
She  binds  in  Ireland,  she  would  break  in  Spain ; 
While  prais'd  at  distance,  but  at  home  forbid, 
Rebels  in  Cork  are  patriots  at  Madrid. 

If  Grotius  be  thy  guide,  shut,  shut  the  book,  — 
In  force  alone  for  Laws  of  Nations  look. 
Let  shipless  Danes  and  whining  yankees  dwell 
On  naval  rights,  with  Grotius  and  Vattel, 
While  Gobbet's  pirate  code  alone  appears 
Sound  moi-al  sense  to  England  and  Algiers. 

Woe  to  the  Sceptic,  in  these  party  days, 
Who  wafts  to  neither  shrine  his  puffs  of  praise  ! 
For  him  no  pension  pours  its  annual  fruits, 
No  fertile  sinecure  spontaneous  shoots  ; 
Not  his  the  meed  that   crown'd  Don   Ilookham's 

rhyme. 
Nor  sees  he  e'er,  in  dreams  of  future  time, 
Those  shadowy  forms  of  sleek  reversions  rise, 
So  dear  to  Scotchmen's  second-sighted  eyes. 
Yet  who,  that  looks  to  History's  damning  leaf. 
Whore  AVhig  and  Tory,  thief  opposed  to  thief, 
On  either  side  in  lofty  shame  are  seen,* 
While  Freedom's  form  hangs  crucified  between  — 

*"  Those  two  thieves,"   says  Kalph,  "between  whom  the 
nation  is  crucified."  —  Use  and  Abuse  of  Parliaments. 


A    SATIRE.  161 

Who,  Burdett,  -who  such  rival  rogues  can  see, 
But  flies  from  both  to  Honesty  and  thee  ? 

If,  weary  of  the  world's  bewildering  maze, 
Hopeless  of  finding,  through  its  weedy  ways, 
One  flower  of  truth,  the  busy  crowd  we  shun, 
And  to  the  shades  of  tranquil  learning  run, 
How  many  a  doubt  pursues !  how  oft  we  sigh. 
When  histories  charm,  to  think  that  histories  he ! ! 
That  aU  are  grave  romances,  at  the  best, 
And  Musgrave's  *  but  more  clumsy  than  the  rest. 
By  Tory  Hume's  seductive  page  beguiled, 
We  fancy  Charles  was  just  and  Strafford  mild  ; 
And  Fox  himself,  with  party  pencil,  draws 
Monmouth  a  hero,  "for  the  good  old  cause  !  " 
Then,  rights  are  wrongs,  and  victories  are  defeats, 
As  French  or  English  pride  the  tale  repeats ; 
And,  when  they  tell  Corunna's  story  o'er. 
They'll  disagree  in  all,  but  honouring  Moore  : 
Nay,  future  pens,  to  flatter  future  courts, 
May  cite  perhaps  the  Park-gun's  gay  reports. 
To  prove  that  England  triumph'd  on  the  morn 
Which  found  her  Junot's  jest  and  Europe's  scora. 


*  This  historian  of  the  Irish  rebellions  has  outrun  even  his 
predecessor  in  the  same  task,  Sir  John  Temple,  for  whose  char- 
acter -vrith  respect  to  veracity  the  reader  may  consult  Carte's 
Collection  of  Ormond's  Original  Papers,  p.  207.  See  also  Dr. 
Nalson's  account  of  him,  in  the  introduction  to  the  second  vol- 
ume of  his  Historic.  Collect. 

VOL.  II.  11 


162  THE    SCEPTIC, 

In  science,  too  —  how  many  a  system,  raised 
Like  Neva's  icy  domes,  awliile  hatli  blazed 
With  lights  of  fancy  and  with  forms  of  pride, 
Tlien,  melting,  mingled  with  the  oblivious  tide ! 
Noio  Earth  usurps  the  centre  of  the  sky, 
Noio  Xewton  puts  the  paltry  planet  by ; 
Noiv  whims  revive  beneath  Descartes'  *  pen, 
Which  noio,  assail'd  by  Locke's,  expire  again. 
And  when,  perhaps,  in  pride  of  chemic  powers. 
We  think  tlie  keys  of  Nature's  kingdom  ours. 
Some  Davy's  magic  touch  the  dream  unsettles, 
And  turns  at  once  our  alkalis  to  metals. 
Or,  should  we  roam,  in  metapliysic  maze, 
Through  fair-built  theories  of  former  days. 
Some  Drumraond  f  from  the  north,  more  ably  skill'd. 
Like  other  Goths,  to  ruin  than  to  build. 
Tramples  triumphant  through  our  fanes  o'erthrown. 
Nor  leaves  one  grace,  one  glory  of  his  own. 

Oh  Learning,  whatsoe'er  thy  pomp  and  boast, 
t^iletter'd   minds   have   taught   and    charm'd   men 

most. 
The  rude,  unread  Columbus  was  our  guide 
To  worlds,  which  learn'd  Lactantius  had  denied ; 

*  Descartes,  who  is  considered  as  the  parent  of  modern  scep- 
ticism, says,  that  there  is  iiotliiiig  in  tlie  whole  range  of  jjliiloso- 
phy  wliich  does  not  admit  of  two  opposite  opinions,  and  which  is 
not  involved  in  doubt  and  uncertainty. 

t  See  this  gentleman's  Academic  Questions. 


A    SATIRE.  163 

And  one  Avikl  Shakspeare,  following  Nature's  lights, 
Is  worth  whole  planets,  fill'd  with  Stagyrites. 

See  grave  Theology,  when  once  she  strays 
From  Revelation's  path,  what  tricks  she  plays  ; 
"What  various  heav'ns,  —  all  fit  for  bards  to  sing,  — 
Have  churchmen  dream'd,  from  Papias*  down  to 

Kinglt 
While  hell  itself,  in  India  nought  but  smoke, | 
In  Spain's  a  furnace,  and  in  France  —  a  joke. 

Hail,  modest  Ignorance,  thou  goal  and  prize, 
Thou  last,  best  knowledge  of  the  simply  wise ! 
Hail,  humble  Doubt,  when  error's  waves  are  past, 
How  sweet  to  reach  thy  shelter'd  port  §  at  last, 
And,  there,  by  changing  skies  nor  lured  nor  awed, 
Smile  at  the  battling  winds  that  roar  abroad. 


*  Papias  lived  about  the  time  of  the  apostles,  and  is  supposp.d 
to  have  given  birth  to  the  heresy  of  the  Chiliastfe,  whose  heaven 
■was  by  no  means  of  a  spiritual  nature,  but  rather  an  anticipation 
of  the  Prophet  of  Hera's  elysium.  See  Eusebius,  Hist.  Ecelesiast. 
lib.  iii.  cap.  33,  and  Hieronym.  de  Scriptor.  Ecelesiast.  —  From 
all  I  can  find  in  these  authors  concerning  Papias,  it  seems  hardly 
fair  to  impute  to  him  those  gross  imaginations  in  which  the 
believers  of  the  sensual  millennium  indulged. 

t  King,  iu  his  ^lorsels  of  Criticism,  vol.  i.,  supposes  the  sun 
to  be  the  receptacle  of  blessed  spirits. 

t  The  Indians  call  hell  "  the  House  of  smoke."  See  Picart 
upon  the  Religion  of  the  Banians. 

§  "  Ch6re  Sceptique,  douce  pature  de  mon  ame,  et  I'unique 
port  de  salut  a  un  esprit  qui  aime  le  repos!" — La  Mothe  le 
Vaycr. 


1G4  THE    SCEPTIC,    A    SATIRE. 

Tliere  gontlc  C'liurity,  who  knows  liow  frail 
The  bark  of  Virtue,  even  in  summer's  gale, 
Sits  by  the  nightly  fire,  whose  beacon  glows  , 
For  all  who  wander,  whether  friends  or  foes. 
There  Faith  retires,  and  keeps  her  white  sail  furl'd. 
Till  call'd  to  spread  it  for  a  better  world ; 
While  Patience,  watching  on  the  weedy  shore, 
And,  mutely  waiting  till  the  storm  be  o'er, 
Oft  turns  to  Hope,  who  still  directs  her  eye 
.  To  some  blue  spot,  just  breaking  in  the  sky ! 

Such  are  the  mild,  the  blest  associates  given 
To   him  who   doubts,  —  and    trusts  in    nought    but 
Heaven ! 


TWOPENNY  POST-BAG. 


BY 


THOMAS  BEOWN,  THE  YOUNGER. 


Elapsas  manibus  secidere  tabellae.         Ovid. 


DEDICATION. 


TO 


STEPHEN    WOOLKICHE,    ESQ. 

My  dear  Wooleiche, 

It  is  now  about  seven  years  since  I  promised  (and 
I  grieve  to  think  it  is  almost  as  long  since  we  met) 
to  dedicate  to  you  the  very  first  Book,  of  whatever 
size  or  kind,  I  should  publish.  Who  could  have 
thought  that  so  many  years  would  elapse,  without 
my  giving  the  least  signs  of  life  upon  the  subject  of 
this  important  jiromise  ?  Who  could  have  imagined 
that  a  volume  of  doggei-el,  after  all,  would  be  the 
first  offering  that  Gratitude  would  lay  upon  the 
shrine  of  Friendship  ? 

If  you  continue,  however,  to  be  as  much  interested 
about  me  and  my  pursuits  as  formerly,  you  will  be 
happy  to  hear  that  doggerel  is  not  my  only  occupa- 
tion ;  but  that  I  am  preparing  to  throw  my  name  to 
the  Swans  of  the  Temple  of  Immortality,*  leaving  it, 
of  course,  to  the  said  Swans  to  determine,  whether 

*  Ariosto,  canto  35. 


1G8  DEDICATIOX. 

they  ever  will  take  tlic  trouble  of  picking  it  from  the 
stream. 

Ill  tlie  mean  time,  ray  dear  "Woolriche,  like  an 
orthodox  Lutheran,  you  must  judge  of  me  rather  by 
my  faith  than  my  tvorks ;  and,  however  trifling  the 
tribute  Avhifh  I  here  offer,  never  doubt  the  lidelity 
with  which  I  am,  and  always  shall  be, 
Your  sincere  and 

attached  friend, 

THE   AUTHOR. 
March  i,  1813. 


PREFACE. 


The  Bag,  from  which  the  following  Letters  are 
selected,  was  dropped  by  a  Twopenny  Postman 
about  two  months  since,  and  picked  up  by  an  emis- 
sary of  the  Society  for  the  Suppression  of  Vice,  who, 
supposing  it  might  materially  assist  the  private  re- 
searches of  that  Institution,  immediately  took  it  to 
his  employers,  and  was  rewarded  handsomely  for 
his  trouble.  Such  a  treasury  of  secrets  was  worth 
a  whole  host  of  informers  ;  and,  accordingly,  like  the 
Cupids  of  the  poet  (if  I  may  use  so  profane  a  simile) 
who  "  fell  at  odds  about  the  sweet-bag  of  a  bee,"  * 
those  venerable  Suppressors  almost  fought  with  each 
other  for  the  honour  and  delight  of  first  ransacking 
the  Post-Bag.  Unluckily,  however,  it  turned  out, 
upon  examination,  that  the  discoveries  of  profligacy 
which  it  enabled  them  to  make,  lay  chiefly  in  those 
upper  regions  of  society,  which  their  Avell-bred  regula- 
tions forbid  them  to  molest  or  meddle  with.  —  In  con- 
sequence, they  gained  but  very  few  victims  by  their 
prize,  and,  after  lying  for  a  week  or  two  under  ]Mi\ 
Hatchard's  counter,  the  Bag,  with  its  violated  con- 
tents, was  sold  for  a  trifle  to  a  friend  of  mine. 

*  Hen-ick. 


170  TWOPENNY   POST-BAG. 

It  happened  tliat  I  had  been  just  then  seized  with 
an  ambition  (having  never  tried  the  strengtli  of  my 
wing  but  in  a  Newspaper)  to  publish  sometiiing  or 
other  in  the  shape  of  a  Book ;  and  it  occurred  to 
me  that,  the  present  being  such  a  letter-writing  era, 
a  few  of  these  Twopenny-Post  Epistles,  turned  into 
easy  verse,  would  be  as  light  and  popular  a  task  as 
I  could  jiossibly  select  for  a  commencement.  I  did 
not,  however,  think  it  prudent  to  give  too  many 
Letters  at  fii-st,  and,  accordingly,  have  been  obliged 
(in  order  to  eke  out  a  sufficient  number  of  pages)  to 
reprint  some  of  those  trifles,  which  had  already  ap- 
peared in  the  public  journals.  As  in  the  battles  of 
ancient  times,  the  shades  of  the  departed  were  some- 
times seen  among  the  combatants,  so  I  thought  I 
might  manage  to  remedy  the  thinness  of  my  ranks, 
by  conjuring  up  a  few  dead  and  forgotten  ephcm- 
erons  to  fill  them. 

Such  are  the  motives  and  accidents  that  led  to  the 
present  publication  ;  and  as  this  is  the  first  time  my 
Muse  has  ever  ventured  out  of  the  go-cart  of  a 
Newspaper,  though  I  feel  all  a  parent's  delight  at 
seeing  little  Miss  go  alone,  I  am  also  not  without  a 
parent's  anxiety,  lest  an  unlucky  fall  should  be  the 
consequence  of  the  experiment;  and  I  need  not 
point  out  how  many  living  instances  might  be  found, 
of  Muses  that  have  suffered  very  severely  in  their 
heads,  from  taking  rather  too  early  and  rashly  to 
their  feet.  Besides,  a  Book  is  so  very  different  a 
thing  from  a  Newspaper  !  —  in  the  former,  your  dog- 


PREFACE.  171 

gerel,  without  either  company  or  shelter,  must  stand 
shivering  in  the  middle  of  a  bleak  page  by  itself; 
whereas,  in  the  latter,  it  is  comfortably  backed  by 
advertisements,  and  has  sometimes  even  a  Speech  of 
Mr.  Stephen's  or  something  equally  warm,  for  a 
chanffe-jyied — so  that,  in  general,  the  very  reverse 
of  "laudatur  et  alget"  is  its  destiny. 

Ambition,  however,  must  run  some  risks,  and  I 
shall  be  very  well  satisfied  if  the  reception  of  these 
few  Letters  should  have  the  eifect  of  sending  me  to 
the  Post-Bag  for  more. 


PREFACE 


TO    THE    FOURTEENTH    EDITION. 


BY  A   FRIEND   OF   THE   AUTHOR. 


Ix  the  absence  of  Mr.  Brown,  who  is  at  present 

on  a  tour  through ,  I  feel  myself  called  upon, 

as  his  friend,  to  notice  certain  misconceptions  and 
misrepresentations,  to  which  this  little  volume  of 
Trifles  has  given  rise. 

In  tlie  first  place,  it  is  not  true  that  Mr.  Brown 
has  had  any  accomplices  in  the  work.  A  note,  indeed, 
which  has  hitherto  accompanied  his  Preface,  may 
very  naturally  have  been  the  origin  of  such  a  suppo- 
sition ;  but  that  note,  which  was  merely  the  coquetry 
of  an  author,  I  have,  in  the  present  edition,  taken 
upon  myself  to  remove,  and  Mr.  Brown  must  there- 
fore be  considered  (like  the  mother  of  that  unique 
production,  the  Centaur,  [tovu  y.ai  novov*)  as  alone 
responsible  for  the  whole  contents  of  the  volume. 

*  Pindar,  Pyth.  2.  —  My  friend  certainly  cannot  add  ovt'  ev 
avdpaai  yepaa(j)opov. 


PREFACE    TO    FOURTEENTH    EDITION.  173 

In  the  next  place  it  has  been  said,  that  in  conse- 
quence of  this  graceless  little  book,  a  certain  distin- 
guished Personage  prevailed  upon  another  distin- 
guished Personage  to  withdraw  from  the  author  that 
notice  and  kindness  with  which  he  had  so  long  and 
so  liberally  honoured  him.  In  this  story  there  is  not 
one  syllable  of  truth.  For  the  magnanimity  of  the 
former  of  these  persons  I  would,  indeed,  in  no  case 
answer  too  rashly :  but  of  the  conduct  of  the  latter 
towards  my  friend,  I  have  a  proud  gratification  in 
declaring,  that  it  has  never  ceased  to  be  such  as  he 
must  remember  with  indelible  gratitude ;  —  a  grati- 
tude the  more  cheerfully  and  warmly  paid,  from  its 
not  being  a  debt  incurred  solely  on  his  own  account, 
but  for  kindness  shared  with  those  nearest  and  dear- 
est to  him. 

To  the  charge  of  being  an  Irishman,  poor  Mr. 
Brown  pleads  guilty ;  and  I  believe  it  must  also  be 
acknowledged  that  he  comes  of  a  Roman  Catholic 
family :  an  avowal  which  I  am  aware  is  decisive  of 
his  utter  reprobation,  in  the  eyes  of  those  exclusive 
patentee?  of  Christianity,  so  worthy  to  have  been  the 
followers  of  a  certain  enlightened  Bishop,  Donatus,* 
who  held  "  that  God  is  in  Africa  and  not  elsewhere." 
But  from  all  this  it  does  not  necessarily  follow  that 
Mr.  Brown  is  a  Papist ;  and,  indeed,  I  have  the 
strongest  reasons  for  suspecting  that  they,  who  say 

*  Bishop  of  Casje  Nigrse,  in  the  fourth  centur\\ 


174  TWOPENNY    POST-BAG. 

SO,  are  somewhat  mistaken.  Not  that  I  presume  to 
have  ascertanied  his  oiiinions  upon  such  subjects. 
All  I  profess  to  know  of  his  orthodoxy  is,  that  he 
has  a  Protestant  wife  and  two  or  three  little  Prot- 
estant children,  and  that  he  has  been  seen  at  cluirch 
every  Sunday,  for  a  whole  year  together,  listening 
to  the  sermons  of  his  truly  reverend  and  amiable 

friend,  Dr. ,  and  behaving  there  as  well  and 

as  orderly  as  most  people. 

There  are  yet  a  few  other  mistakes  and  falsehoods 
about  Mr.  Brown,  to  which  I  had  intended,  Avitli  all 
becoming  gravity,  to  advert;  but  I  begin  to  think  the 
task  is  quite  as  useless  as  it  is  tiresome.  Misrepre- 
sentations and  calumnies  of  this  sort  are,  like  the 
arguments  and  statements  of  Dr.  Duigenan,  —  not  at 
all  the  less  vivacious  or  less  serviceable  to  their  fab- 
ricators, for  having  been  refuted  and  disproved  a 
thousand  times  over.  They  are  brought  forward 
again,  as  good  as  new,  whenever  malice  or  stupidity 
may  be  in  want  of  them ;  and  are  quite  as  useful  as 
the  old  broken  lantern,  in  Fielding's  Amelia,  which 
the  watchman  always  keeps  ready  by  him,  to  pro- 
duce, in  proof  of  riotous  conduct,  against  his  victims. 
I  shall  therefore  give  up  the  fruitless  toil  of  vindica- 
tion, and  would  even  draw  my  pen  over  what  I  have 
already  written,  iiad  I  not  promised  to  furnish  my 
publisher  with  a  Preface,  and  know  not  how  else  I 
could  contrive  to  eke  it  out. 

I  have  added  two  or  three  more  trifles  to  this  edi- 


PREFACE    TO    FOURTEENTH    EDITIOX.         175 

tion,  which  I  found  in  the  Morning  Chronicle,  and 
knew  to  be  from  the  pen  of  my  friend.     The  rest  of 
the  vohime  remains  *  in  its  original  state. 
A^il  20, 1814. 

*  A  new  reading  has  been  suggested  in  the  original  of  the  Ode 
of  Horace,  freely  translated  by  Lord  Eldon,  page  189.  In  the 
line  "Sive  per  SjTteis  iter  restuosas,"  it  is  proposed,  bj-  a  very 
trifling  alteration,  to  read  "  Surtees,"  instead  of  "  Syrteis,"  which 
brings  the  Ode,  it  is  said,  more  home  to  the  noble  translator,  and 
gives  a  peculiar  force  and  aptness  to  the  epithet  "  rcstuosas." 
I  raerelj''  throw  out  this  emendation  for  the  learned,  being  unable 
myself  to  decide  upon  its  merits. 


INTERCEPTED   LETTERS,  ETC. 


LETTER  I. 

FBOM  THE     PKINCESS     CHARLOTTE     OF  WALES    TO  THE     LADT 
BARBARA  ASHLEY.* 

My  dear  Lady  Bab,  you  '11  be  shock'd,  I  'm  afraid. 
When  you  hear  the  sad  rumpus  your  Ponies  have 

made ; 
Since  the  time  of  horse-consuls  (now  long  out  of 

date), 
No  naers  ever  made  such  a  stir  in  the  state. 
Lord  Eldon  first  heard  —  and  as  instantly  pray'd  he 
To  "  God  and  his  King  "  —  that  a  popish  young  lady 
(For  though  you  've  bright  eyes  and  twelve  thousand 

a  year, 
It  is  still  but  too  true  you're  a  Papist,  my  dear,) 
Had  insidiously  sent,  by  a  tall  Irish  groom. 
Two  priest-ridden  ponies,  just  landed  from  Rome, 
And  so  full,  little  rogues,  of  pontifical  tricks. 
That  the  dome  of  St.  Paul's  was  scarce  safe  from 

their  kicks. 

*  This  young  lady,  -who  is  a  Eoman  Catholic,  had  lately  made 
a  present  of  some  beautiful  Ponies  to  the  Princess. 
VOL.  II.  12 


178  INTERCEPTED    LETTERS. 

Off  at  once  to  Papa,  in  a  flurry  he  flies  — 
For  Papa  always  does  wliat  these  statesmen  advise, 
On  condition  tliat  they'll  be,  in  turn,  so  polite 
As  in  no  case  whate'er  to  advise  him  too  right  — 
"  Pretty  doings  are  here.  Sir  (he  angrily  cries, 
While  by  dint  of  dark  eyebrows  he  strives  to  look 

wise)  — 
"  'Tis  a  scheme  of  the  Romanists,  so  help  me  God ! 
"  To  ride  over  your  viost  Royal  Highness  rough- 
shod— 
"Excuse,    Sir,  my  tears  —  they're   from   loyalty's 

source  — 
"  Bad  enough  'twas  for  Troy  to  be  sack'd  by  a  Horse, 
"  But  for  us  to  be  ruin'd  by  Ponies  still  worse  !  " 
Quick  a  Council  is  call'd  —  the  whole  Cabinet  sits  — 
The  Archbishops  declare,  frighten'd  out  of  their  wits, 
That  if  once  Popish  Ponies  should  eat  at  my  manger, 
From  that  awful  moment  the  Church  is  in  danger ! 
As,  give  them  but  stabling,  and  shortly  no  stalls 
Will  suit  their  proud  stomachs  but  those  at  St.  Paul's. 

The  Doctor,*  and  he,  the  devout  man  of  Leather,! 
Vansittart,  now  laying  their  Saint-heads  together, 
Declare  that  these  skittish  young  o-bominations 
Are  clearly  foretold  in  Chap.  vi.  Revelations  — 
Nay,  they  verily  think  they  could  point  out  the  one 
Which  the  Doctoi*'s  friend  Death  was  to  canter  upon. 

*  Mr.  Addington,  so  nicknamed. 

t  Alluding  to  a  tax  lately  laid  upiMi  leather. 


INTERCEPTED    LETTERS.  179 

Lord  Harrowby,  hoping  that  no  one  imputes 
To  the  Court  any  fancy  to  persecute  brutes, 
Protests,  on  the  word  of  himself  and  his  cronies. 
That  had  these  said  creatures  been  Asses,  not  Ponies, 
The  Court  would  have  started  no  sort  of  objection, 
As  Asses  were,  there,  always  sure  of  protection. 

"  If  the  Princess  will  keep  them  (says  Lord  Cas- 

tlereagh), 
"  To  make  them  quite  harmless,  the  only  true  way 
"  Is  (as  certain  Chief  Justices  do  with  their  wives) 
"  To  floe:  them  within  half  an  inch  of  their  lives. 
"  If  they  've  any  bad  Irish  blood  lurking  about, 
"  This  (he  knew  by  experience)  would  soon  draw  it 

out." 
Should  this  be  thought  cruel,  his  Loixlship  proposes 
"  The  new  Veto  snaffle  *  to  bind  down  their  noses  — 
"  A  pretty  conti'ivance,  made  out  of  old  chains, 
"  Which  appears  to  indulge,  while  it  doubly  restrains  ; 
"  Which,  however  high-mettled,  their  gamesomeness 

checks 
"  (Adds  his  Lordship  humanely),  or  else  breaks  their 

necks  1 " 

This  proposal  receiv'd  pretty  general  applause 
From  the  Statesmen  around  —  and  the  neck-breaking 
clause 

*  The  question  whether  a  Veto  was  to  be  allowed  to  the  Crown 
in  the  appointment  of  Irish  Catholic  Bishops  w;xs,  at  this  time, 
very  generally  and  actively  agitated. 


180  IXTERCKPTKD    LETTERS. 

Had  a  vigour  about  it,  which  soon  reconcil'd 
Even  Pvklon  liiraself  to  a  measure  so  mild. 
So  the  snuffles,  my  dear,  were  agreed  to  nem.  con., 
And  my  Lord  Castlereagh,  having  so  often  shone 
In  i\iQ  fettering  line,  is  to  buckle  them  on. 

I  shall  drive  to  your  door  in  these  Vetos  some  day, 
But,  at  present,  adieu !  —  I  must  hurry  away 
To  go  see  my  Mamiun,  as  I 'in  suffer'd  to  meet  her 
For  just  half  an  hour  by  the  Queen's  best  repeater. 

Charlotte. 


LETTER  II. 

FROM   COLONEL  M'MAHON  TO  GOULD   FRANCIS  LKCKIE,    ESQ. 

Dear  Sir,  I've  just  had  time  to  look 
Into  your  very  learned  Book,* 
Wherein  —  as  plain  as  man  can  speak, 
"Whose  English  is  half  modern  Greek  — 
You  prove  that  we  can  ne'er  intrench 
Our  happy  isles  against  the  French, 
Till  Royalty  in  England's  made 
A  much  more  independent  tnule  ;  — 
In  short,  until  the  House  of  Guelph 
Lays  Lords  and  Commons  on  the  shelf. 
And  boldly  sets  up  for  itself. 

*  For  au  account  of  this  extraordinary  work  of  Mr.  Leckie 
Bee  tlie  Edinburgh  Review,  vol.  xx. 


INTERCEPTED    LETTERS.  181 

All,  that  can  well  be  understood 
In  this  said  Book,  is  vastly  good ; 
And,  as  to  what's  incomprehensible, 
I  dai*e  be  sworn  't  is  full  as  sensible. 

But,  to  your  Avork's  immortal  credit, 
The  Pi-ince,  good  Sir,  the  Prince  has  read  it 
(The  only  Book,  himself  remarks. 
Which  he  has  read  since  Mrs.  Clarke's). 
Last  levee-morn  he  look'd  it  through, 
During  that  awful  hour  or  two 
Of  grave  tonsorial  preparation. 
Which,  to  a  fond,  admiring  nation. 
Sends  forth,  announc'd  by  trump  and  drum, 
The  best-wigg'd  Prince  in  Christendom. 

He  thinks  with  you,  th'  imagination 
0? partnersltip  in  legislation 
Could  only  enter  in  the  noddles 
Of  dull  and  ledger-keeping  twaddles, 
Whose  heads  on  Jirms  are  running  so, 
They  ev'n  must  have  a  King  and  Co., 
And  hence,  most  eloquently  show  forth 
On  checks  and  balances,  and  so  forth.  K 

But  now,  he  trusts,  we  're  coming  near  a        v 
Far  more  royal,  loyal  era ; 
When  England's  monarch  need  but  say, 
"  Whip  me  those  scoundrels,  Castlereagh  ! " 
Or,  "  Hang  me  up  those  Papists,  Eldon," 
And  'twill  be  done  —  ay,  faith,  and  well  done. 


182  INTERCEPTED    LETTERS. 

With  view  to  which,  I  've  his  command 
To  beg,  Sir,  from  your  travell'd  hand, 
(Round  which  the  foreign  graces  swarm)  * 
A  Plan  of  radical  Reform  ; 
Compil'd  and  chos'n  as  best  you  can, 
In  Turkey  or  at  Ispahan, 
And  quite  ui)turning,  branch  and  root, 
Lords,  Commons,  and  Burdett  to  boot. 

But,  pray,  whate'er  you  may  impart,  write 
Somewhat  more  brief  than  Major  Cartwright : 
Else,  though  the  Prince  be  long  in  rigging, 
'T  would  take,  at  least,  a  fortniglit's  wigging, — 
Two  wigs  to  every  paragraph  — 
Before  he  well  could  get  through  half. 

You  '11  send  it  also  speedily  — 
As,  truth  to  say,  'twixt  you  and  me. 
His  Highness,  heated  by  your  work, 
Ah'eady  thinks  himself  Gi'and  Turk ! 
And  you'djiave  laugh'd,  had  you  seen  how 
He  scar'd  the  Chancellor  just  now, 
"When  (on  his  Lordship's  entering  pufTd)  he 
Sla|)p'd  his  back  and  call'd  him  "  Mufti !  " 

The  tailors  too  have  got  commands, 
To  put  directly  into  hands 

*  "  The  truth  indeed  seems  to  be,  that  having  lived  so  long 
abroad  as  evidently  to  have  lost,  in  a  great  degree,  the  use  of 
his  native  language,  Mr.  Leckie  has  gradually  come  not  only  to 
speak,  but  to  feel,  like  a  foreigner."  —  Edinbuiujh  Jieview. 


INTERCEPTED    LETTERS.  183 

All  sorts  of  Dnlimans  and  Pouches, 

With  Sashes,  Turbans,  and  Paboutches, 

(While  Yarmouth's  sketching  out  a  plan 

Of  new  Moustaches  a  V  Ottomane) 

And  all  things  fitting  and  expedient 

To  turhify  our  gracious  regent !  | 

i 

You,  therefore,  have  no  time  to  waste  — 
So,  send  your  System.  — 

Yours,  in  haste. 


POSTSCKIPT. 

Before  I  send  this  scrawl  away, 

I  seize  a  moment,  just  to  say, 

There 's  some  parts  of  the  Turkish  system 

So  vulgar,  't  were  as  well  you  miss'd  'em. 

For  instance  —  in  Seraglio  matters  — 

Your  Turk,  Avhom  girlish  fondness  flatters. 

Would  fill  his  Haram  (tasteless  fool !) 

With  tittering,  red-cheek'd  tilings  from  school. 

But  here  (as  in  that  fairy  land. 

Where  Love  and  Age  Avent  hand  in  hand  ;  * 

*  The  learned  Colonel  must  allude  here  to  a  description  of  the 
Mysterious  Isle,  in  the  History  of  Abdalla,  Son  of  Hanif,  where 
such  inversions  of  the  order  of  nature  are  said  to  have  taken 
place.  — "  A  score  of  old  women  and  the  same  number  of  old 
men  played  here  and  there  in  the  court,  some  at  chuck-farthing, 


184  INTERCEPTED    LETTERS. 

"Whei*e  lips,  till  sixty,  shed  no  honey, 
And  Grandams  were  worth  any  money,) 
Our  Sultan  has  much  riper  notions  — 
So,  let  your  list  of  sAe-promotions 
Include  those  only,  plump  and  sage, 
Who've  rcach'd  the  regulation-n^e  ; 
That  is,  (as  near  as  one  can  fix 
From  Peerage  dates,)  full  fifty-six. 

This  rule's  hvfav'rites  —  nothing  more 
For,  as  to  wives,  a  Grand  Signor, 
Though  not  decidedly  wit/ioiit  them. 
Need  never  care  one  curse  about  them. 


LETTER  III. 

FROM  GEORGE  PRICE  REGENT  TO  THE  EARL  OF  YARMOUTH.* 

We  miss'd  you  last  night  at  the  "  hoary  old  sinner's," 
Wlio  gave  us,  as  usual,  the  cream  of  good  dinners; 
His  soups  scientific  —  his  fishes  quite  prime  — 
Ilis  pates  superb  —  and  his  cutlets  sublime  ! 
In  short,  'twas  the  snug  sort  of  dinner  to  stir  a 
Stomachic  orgasm  in  my  Lord  Ellenborough, 

others  at  tip-cat  or  at  cockles."  —  And  again,  "  Tliere  is  nothing, 
believe  me,  more  engaging  tliati  those  lovely  wrinkles,"  etc. 
etc.  —  See  Tales  of  the  J-Jast,  vol.  iii.  pp.  607,  608. 

*  This  letter,  as  the  reader  will  perceive,  was  written  the  day 
after  a  dinner  given  by  the  Marquis  of  He.adfort. 


INTERCEPTED    LETTERS.  185 

Who  set  to,  to  be  sure,  with  miraculous  force, 

And  exclaim' d,  between  mouthfuls,  "  a  ^e-Cook,  of 
course ! — 

"While  you  live —  (what's  there  under  that  cover  ? 
pray,,  look)  — 

"  While  you  live  —  (I  '11  just  taste  it)  —  ne'er  keep  a 
She-Cook. 

"'Tis  a  sound  Salic  Law  —  (a   small  bit  of  that 
toast)  — 

*'  Which  ordams  that  a  female  shall  ne'er  rule  the 
roast ; 

"For  Cookery's  a   secret — (this   turtle's   uncom- 
mon) — 

"  Like  Masonry,  never  found  out  by  a  woman !  " 

The  dinner,  you  know,  was  in  gay  celebration 
Of  my  brilliant  triumph  and  Hunt's  condemnation  ; 
A  compliment,  too,  to  his  Lordship  the  Judge 
For  his  Speech  to  the  Jury  —  and  zounds!    who 

would  grudge 
Turtle  soup,  though  it  came  to  five  guineas  a  bowl, 
To  reward  such  a  loyal  and  complaisant  soul  ? 
We  were  all  in  high  gig  —  Roman  Punch  and  To- 
kay 
Travell'd  round,  till  our  heads  travell'd  just  the  same 

way; 
And  we  car'd  not  for  Juries  or  Libels  —  no  —  dam- 
me !  nor 
Ev'n  for  the  threats  of  last  Sunday's  Examiner  ! 


18G  INTERCErTED    LETTERS. 

More  good  things  were  eaten  than  said  —  but  Tom 
Tyrrhitt 
In  quoting  Joe  Miller,  you  know,  has  some  merit ; 
And,  hearing  the  sturdy  Justiciary  Chief 
Say  —  sated  with  turtle  —  "I  '11  now  try  the  beef" — 
Tommy  whisper'd  him  (giving  his  Lordship  a  sly 

hit) 
"  I  fear  't  will  be  Imng-heQ^,  my  Lord,  if  you  try  it ! " 

And  Camden  was  there,  who,  that  morning,  had 

gone 
To  fit  his  new  Marquis's  coronet  on  ; 
And  the  dish  set  before  him  —  oh  dish  well-devLs'd !  — 
"Was,  what  old  Mother  Glasse  calls,  "  a  calf's  head 

surpris'd !  " 
The  brains  were  near  Sh — ry,  and  once  had  been 

fine, 
But,  of  late,  they  had  lain  so  long  soaking  in  wine, 
That,  though  we,  from  courtesy,  still  chose  to  call 
These  bi'ains  very  fine,  they  were  no  brains  at  all. 

When  the  dinner  was  over,  we  drank,  every  one 
In  a  bumper,  "  The  venial  delights  of  Crim.  Con. ; " 
At  which  Ileadfort  Avith  warm  reminiscences  gloated, 
And  Ellenb'rough  chuckled  to  hear  himself  quoted. 

Our  next  round  of  toasts  was  a  fancy  quite  new, 
For  we  drank  —  and  you'll  own 'twas  benevolent 
too — 


INTERCEPTED    LETTERS.  187 

To  those  -well-meaning  husbands,  cits,  parsons,  or 

peers. 
Whom  we've,  any  time,  honour'd  by  courting  their 

dears : 
This  museum  of  wittols  was  comical  rather; 
Old  Headfort  gave  Massey,  and  /gave  your  father. 

In  short,  not  a  soul  till  this  morning  would  budge  — 
TTe  were  all  fun  and  frolic,  —  and  even  the  Judge 
Laid  aside,  for  the  time,  his  Juridical  fashion, 
And  through  the  whole  night  wasn't  once  in  a  pas- 
sion ! 

I  write  this  in  bed,  while  my  whiskers  are  airing, 
And  Mac*  has  a  sly  dose  of  jalap  preparing 
For  poor  Tommy  T-rr-tt  at  breakfast  to  quaff — 
As  I  feel  I  want  something?  to  give  me  a  laugh, 
And  there's  nothing  so  good  as  old  Tommy,  kept 

close 
To  his  Cornwall  accounts,  after  taking  a  dose. 

*  Colonel  M'Mahon. 


188  IXTEUCEPTED    LETTERS. 


LETTER    IV. 

FROM   THE   KIGIIT   IFON.    PATKICK   DUIGEXAK   TO   THE    KIGHT 
HON.    SIK  JOHX  KICHOL. 

Dublin.* 

Last  week,  dear  Nichol,  making  merry 

At  dinner  with  our  Secretary, 

When  all  were  drunk,  or  pretty  near 

(The  time  for  doing  business  here), 

Says  he  to  me,  "  Sweet  Bully  Bottom  ! 

"  These  Papist  dogs  —  hiccup  —  'od  rot  'em  !  — 

"  Deserve  to  be  bespatter'd  —  hiccup  — 

"  With  all  the  dirt  ev'n  i/oit  can  pick  up. 

"  But,  as  the  Prince  (here 's  to  him  —  fill  — 

"  Hip,  liip,  hurra !)  —  is  trying  still 

"  To  humbug  them  with  kind  professions, 

"  And,  as  i/ou  deal  in  strong  expressions  — 

" '  Rogue  '  — '  traitor '  —  hiccup  —  and  all  that  — 

"  You  must  he  muzzled,  Doctor  Pat !  — 

"  You  must  indeed  —  hiccup  —  that's  flat."  — 

Yes  —  "  muzzled  "  was  the  word,  Sir  John  — 
These  fools  have  clapp'd  a  muzzle  on 

*  This  letter,  ■which  contained  some  very  heavy  enclosures, 
seems  to  have  been  sent  to  London  by  a  private  hand,  and  then 
put  into  the  Twopenny  Post-Office,  to  save  trouble.  See  the 
Appendix,  p.  207. 


rXTERCEPTED    LETTERS.  189 

The  boldest  mouth  that  e'er  ran  o'er 

With  slaver  of  the  times  of  yore  !  —  * 

Was  it  for  this  that  back  I  went 

As  far  as  Lateran  and  Trent, 

To  prove  that  they,  who  damn'd  us  then, 

Ought  now,  in  turn,  be  damn'd  again  ?  — 

The  silent  victim  still  to  sit 

Of  Grattan's  fire  and  Canning's  wit. 

To  hear  ev'n  noisy  M — th — w  gabble  on, 

'Nor  mention  once  the  Whore  of  Babylon  ! 

Oh!  'tis  too  much  —  who  now  will  be 

The  Nightman  of  No-Popery  ? 

What  Courtier,  Saint,  or  even  Bishop, 

Such  learned  filth  will  ever  fish  up  ? 

If  there  among  our  ranks  be  one 

To  take  my  place,  'tis  thoic,  Sir  John  ; 

Thou,  who,  like  me,  art  dubb'd  Right  Hon. 

Like  me  too,  art  a  Lawyer  Civil 

That  wishes  Papists  at  the  devil. 

To  whom  then  but  to  thee,  my  friend, 
vShould  Patrick  f  his  Port-folio  send  ? 
Take  it  —  'tis  thine  —  his  learn'd  Port-folio, 
With  all  its  tlieolo";ic  olio 


o 


*  In  sending  this  sheet  to  the  press,  however,  I  learn  that  the 
"muzzle"  has  been  taken  oft',  and  the  Right  Hon.  Doctor  again 
let  loose  I 

t  A  bad  name  for  poetry ;  but  Duigenan  is  still  worse.  —  As 
Prudentius  says  upon  a  very  different  subject  — 

Torquetur  Apollo 
Nomine  percussus. 


190  INTERCEPTED    LETTERS. 

Of  Bulls,  half  Irish  and  half  Roman  — 

Of  Doctrines,  now  belie v'd  by  no  man  — 

Of  Councils,  held  for  men's  salvation, 

Yet  always  ending  in  damnation  — 

(Which  shows  that,  since  the  world's  creation, 

Your  Priests,  whate'er  their  gentle  shamming. 

Have  always  had  a  taste  for  damning,) 

And  many  more  such  pious  scraps, 

To  prove  (what  we've  long  prov'd,  perhaps,) 

That,  mad  as  Christians  us'd  to  be 

About  the  Thirteentli  Century, 

There  still  are  Christians  to  be  had 

In  this,  the  Nineteenth,  just  as  mad  ! . 

Farewell  —  I  send  with  this,  dear  Nichol, 
A  rod  or  two  I've  had  in  pickle 
Wherewith  to  trim  old  G rattan's  jacket. — 
The  rest  shall  go  by  Monday's  packet. 

P.  D. 


INTERCEPTED    LETTERS.  191 


Among  the  Enclosures  in  the  foregouig  Letter  was  the  folloTving 
"Unanswerable  Ai'gument  against  the  Papists." 

We  're  told  the  ancient  Roman  nation 
INlade  use  of  spittle  in  lustration  ;  * 
(Vide  Lactantium  ap.  Gallaium — f 
^.  e.  you  need  not  read  but  see  'em ;) 
Now,  Irish  Papists,  fact  surprising, 
Make  use  of  spittle  in  baptizing ; 
Which  proves  them  all,  O'Finns,  O'Fagans, 
Connors,  and  Tooles,  all  downright  Pagans. 
This  fact's  enough  ;  —  let  no  one  tell  us 
To  free  such  sad,  sallvous  fellows.  — 
No,  no  —  the  man,  baptiz'd  with  spittle, 
Hath  no  truth  in  him  —  not  a  tittle  ! 

'^'  !^'  yS  ^n 


-  Lustralibus  ant6  salivis 


Expiat.  Pers.  sat.  2. 

t  I  have  taken  the  trouble  of  examining  the  Doctor's  reference 
here,  and  find  him,  for  once,  correct.  The  following  are  the 
words  of  his  indignant  referee  Gailajus — "  Asserere  non  vere- 
mur  sacrum  baptismum  a  Papistis  profanari,  et  sputi  usum  in 
peccatorum  expiatione  a  Paganis  non  a  Christiauis  iiuinasse.''^ 


192  INTKUCErXED    LETTERS. 

LETTER  V. 

FROJI   THE   COUNTESS  DOWAGEK  OF   CORK  TO  LADY - 


My  dear  Lady !  I've  been  just  sending  out 

About  five  hundred  cards  for  a  snug  little  Rout  —  ^ 
(By  the  by,  you've  seen  Rokeby?  —  this  moment 


got  mnie  — 


The  Mail-Coach  Edition  * —  prodigiously  fine  !) 
But  I  can't  conceive  how,  in  this  very  cold  weather, 
I'm  ever  to  bring  my  five  hundred  together; 
As,  unless  the  thermometer's  near  boiling  heat, 
One  can  never  get  half  of  one's  hundreds  to  meet. 
(Apropos  —  you'd  have   laugh'd  to  see   Townsend 

last  night. 
Escort  to  their  chairs,  with  his  staff,  so  polite, 
The  "  three  maiden  Miseries,"  all  in  a  fright ; 
Poor  Townsend,  like  Mercury,  filling  two  posts, 
Supervisor  o(  thieves,  and  chief-usher  o^  ghosts  !) 

But,  my  dear  Lady ,  can't  you  hit  on  some 

notion. 
At  least  for  one  night  to  set  London  in  motion? — ^ 
As  to  having  the  liegent,  that  show  is  gone  by  — 
Besides,  I  've  rcmark'd  that  (between  you  and  I) 
The  Marchesa  and  he,  inconvenient  in  more  ways, 
Have  taken  much  lately  to  whispering  in  doorways ; 

*  See  Mr.  Murray's    Advertisement  about   the  JIail-Coach 
copies  of  Rokeby. 


rXTERCE?TED    LETTERS.  19 


o 


Which  —  consid'ring,  you  know,  dear,  the  size  of  the 

two  — 
Makes    a    block    that    one's    company   cannot    get 

through ; 
And  a  house   such  as   mine  is,  Avith    doorways  so 

small,  [all.  — 

Has  no   room  for   such   cumbersome  love-work  at 
(Apropos,  though,  of  love-work  —  you  've  heard  it^ 

I  hope. 
That  Napoleon's  old  mother's  to  marry  the  Pope,  — 
What  a  comical  pair !)  —  but,  to  stick  to  my  Eout, 
'Twill  be  hard  if  some  novelty  can't  be  struck  out. 
Is  there  no  Algerine,  no  Kamchatkan  arriv'd  ? 
No  Plenipo  Pacha,  three-tail'd  and  ten-wiv'd  ? 
No  Russian,  whose  dissonant  consonant  name 
Almost  rattles  to  fragments  the  trumpet  of  fame  ? 

I  remember  the  time,  three  or  four  winters  back, 
When  —  provided   their   wigs   were    but    decently 

black  — 
A  few  Patriot  monsters,  from  Spain,  were  a  sight 
That  would  people  one's  house  for  one,  night  after 

night. 
But  —  whether    the    Ministers   paw'd    them    too 

much  — 
(And  you   know   how  they  spoil  whatsoever   they 

touch) 
Or,  whether  Lord  George  (the  young  man  about 

town) 
Has,  by  dint  of  bad  poetry,  written  them  down, 
VOL.  ir.  13 


194  INTERCEPTED    LETTERS. 

One  has  c(^rtainly  lost  one's  Peninsular  rage ; 
And  the  only  stray  Patriot  seen  for  an  age 
Has  been  at  such  places  (think,  how  the  fit  cools !) 
As  old  Mrs.Vaughan's  or  Lord  Liverpool's. 

But,  in  short,  my  dear,  names  like  Wintztschitstop- 

schinzoudhofF 
Arc  the  only  things  now  make  an  ev'ning  go  smooth 

off": 
So,  get  me  a  Russian  —  till  death  I'm  your  debtor  — 
If  he  brings  the  whole  Alphabet,  so  much  the  better. 
And  —  Lord !  if  he  would  but,  in  character,  sup 
Off  his  fish-oil  and  candles,  he'd  quite  set  me  up! 

Au  revoir,  my  sweet  girl  —  I  must  leave  you  in 
haste  — 
Little  Gunter  has  brought  me  the  Liqueurs  to  taste. 


POSTSCRIPT. 

Br  the  by,  have  you  found  any  friend  that  can  con- 
strue 
That  Latin  account,  t'other  day,  of  a  Monster?* 
If  we  can't  get  a  Russian,  and  that  thing  in  Latin 
Be  not  too  improper,  I  think  I'll  bring  that  in. 

•  AllndinjT,  I  sjipposc,  to  tlio  Latin  Advertisement  of  a  Lusus 
Nature  in  the  newsiiapers  lately. 


INTERCEPTED    LETTERS.  195 


LETTER  VI. 

FROM   ABDALLAH,*   IN   LONDON,   TO  MOHASSAN,   IN   ISPAHAN. 

Whilst  thou,  Mohassan,  (happj  thou !) 

Dost  daily  bend  thy  loyal  brow 

Before  our  King  —  our  Asia's  treasure  ! 

Nutmeg  of  Comfort ;  Rose  of  Pleasure  !  — 

And  bear'st  as  many  kicks  and  bruises 

As  the  said  Rose  and  Nutmeg  chooses  ; 

Thy  head  still  near  the  bowstring's  borders, 

And  but  left  on  till  further  orders  — 

Through  London  streets,  with  turban  fair, 

And  caftan,  floating  to  the  air, 

I  saunter  on,  the  admiration 

Of  this  shoi't-coated  population  — 

This  sew'd  up  race  —  this  button'd  nation  — • 

Who,  while  they  boast  their  laws  so  free. 

Leave  not  one  limb  at  liberty, 

But  live,  with  all  their  lordly  speeches, 

The  slaves  of  buttons  and  tight  breeches. 


*  I  have  made  many  inquiries  about  this  Persian  gentleman, 
but  cannot  satisfactorily  ascertain  who  he  is.  From  his  notions 
of  Religious  Liberty,  however,  I  conclude  that  he  is  an  importa- 
tion of  Ministers;  and  he  has  arrived  just  in  time  to  assist  the 
Prince  and  Mr.  Leckie  in  their  new  Oriental  Plan  of  Reform. — 
See  the  second  of  these  Letters.  — How  Abdallah's  epistle  to 
Ispahan  found  its  way  into  the  Twopenny  Post-Bag  is  more  than 
I  can  pretend   to  account  for. 


196  INTERCEPTED    LETTERS. 

Yet,  though  they  tlius  their  knee-pans  fetter, 
(They're  Christians,  and  they  know  no  better)  * 
In  some  things  tliey're  a  thinking  nation  ; 
And,  on  llehgious  Toleration, 
I  own  I  like  their  notions  quite, 
They  are  so  Persian  and  so  right ! 
You  know  our  Sunnitcs,t  —  hateful  dogs  ! 
Whom  every  pious  Shiite  flogs, 
Or  longs  to  flog  J  —  'tis  true,  they  pray 
To  (?od,  but  in  an  ill-bred  way ; 
With  neither  arms,  nor  legs,  nor  faces 
Stuck  in  their  right,  canonic  places.§ 
'Tis  true,  they  worship  All's  name  — 1| 
Their  heaven  and  ours  are  just  the  same  — 

*  "  C'est  un  honnete  homme,"  said  a  Turkish  governor  of  De 
Kuyter  ;  "  c'est  grand  dommage  qu'il  soit  Chretien." 

t  Sunnites  and  Shiiles  are  the  two  leading  sects  into  which  the 
Mahometan  world  is  divided;  and  they  have  gone  on  cursing 
and  persecuting  each  otlier,  without  any  intermission,  for  about 
eleven  hundred  years.  The  Siinni  is  the  established  sect  in 
Turkey,  and  the  Shia  in  Persia;  and  the  differences  between 
them  turn  chiefly  upon  those  important  points,  which  our  pious 
friend  Abdallah,  in  the  true  spirit  of  Shiite  Ascendency,  repro- 
bates in  this  Letter. 

t  "Les  Sunnites,  qui  ^toient  comme  les  Catholiques  de  Mus- 
ulmanismc." —  B'/ferbelot. 

§  "  In  contradistinction  to  the  Sounis,  who  in  their  prayers 
cross  their  hands  on  the  lower  part  of  the  breast,  the  Schiahs 
drop  their  arms  in  straight  lines;  and  as  the  Sounis,  at  certain 
periods  of  the  prayer,  press  their  foreheads  on  the  ground  or 
carpet,  the  Schiahs,"  etc.  etc.  —  Forster^s  Voyage. 

II  "Les  Turcs  ne  detestent  pas  Ali  reciproquement;  au  con- 
traire,  lis  le  recouuoissent,"  etc.  etc.  —  Churdin. 


INTERCEPTED    LETTERS.  197 

(A  Persian's  Heav'n  is  eas'ly  made, 

'Tis  but  black  eyes  and  lemonade.) 

Yet,  though  we've  tried  for  centuries. back  — 

"We  can't  persuade  this  stubborn  pack, 

By  bastinadoes,  screws,  or  nippers, 

To  wear  th'  establish'd  pea-green  slippers.* 

Then,  only  think,  the  libertines ! 

They  wash  their  toes  —  they  comb  their  chins,t 

With  many  more  such  deadly  sins ; 

And  wdiat  's  the  worst,  though  last  I  rank  it, 

Believe  the  Chapter  of  the  Blanket ! 

Yet,  spite  of  tenets  so  flagitious, 
(TThich  must,  at  bottom,  be  seditious ; 
Since  no  man  living  would  refuse 
Green  slippers,  but  from  treasonous  views ; 
Nor  wash  his  toes,  but  with  intent 
To  overturn  the  government,)  — 
Such  is  our  mild  and  tolerant  way, 
We  only  curse  them  twice  a  day 
(According  to  a  Form  that's  set). 
And,  for  from  torturing,  only  let 
All  orthodox  believers  beat  'em. 
And  twitch  their  beards,  where'er  they  meet  'em. 

*  "  The  Shiites  wear  green  slippers,  -which  the  Suniiites  con- 
sider as  a  great  abomination." — Mariti. 

t  For  these  points  of  difference,  as  well  as  for  the  Chapter  of 
the  Blanket,  I  must  refer  the  reader  (not  having  the  book  by  me) 
to  Picart's  Account  of  the  Mahometan  Sects. 


198  INTERCEPTED    LETTERS. 

As  to  the  rest,  they're  free  to  do 
Whate'er  their  fancy  prompts  them  to, 
Provided. they  make  nothing  of  it 
Tow'rds  rank  or  honour,  power  or  profit ; 
"Which  things,  we  nat'rally  expect, 
Belong  to  us,  the  Estabhsh'd  sect, 
Who  disbelieve  (the  Lord  be  thanked  !) 
Th'  aforesaid  Chapter  of  the  Blanket. 
Tiie  same  mild  views  of  Toleration 
Inspire,  I  find,  this  button'd  nation, 
Wiiose  Pa})ists  (full  as  giv'n  to  rogue, 
And  only  Sunnites  with  a  brogue) 
Fare  just  as  well,  with  all  their  fuss, 
As  rascal  Sunnites  do  with  us. 

The  tender  Gazel  I  enclose 
Is  for  my  love,  my  Syrian  Rose  — 
Take  it  when  night  begins  to  fall, 
And  throw  it  o'er  her  mother's  wall. 


^> 


GAZEL. 

Rememberest  thou  the  hour  we  past, — 
That  hour  the  happiest  and  the  last  ? 
Oh  !  not  so  sweet  the  Siha  thorn 
To  summer  bees,  at  break  of  morn, 
Not  half  so  sweet,  through  dale  and  dell, 
To  Camels'  ears  the  tinkling  bell, 


INTERCEPTED    LETTERS.  199 

As  is  the  soothing  memory 

Of  that  one  precious  hour  to  me. 

How  can  we  live,  so  far  apart  ? 
Oh !  why  not  rather,  heart  to  heart, 

United  live  and  die  — 
Like  those  sweet  birds,  that  fly  together. 
With  feather  always  touching  feather, 

Link'd  by  a  hook  and  eye !  * 


LETTER   VII*. 

FROM  MESSRS.  LACKINGTON  AND   CO.   TO ,  ESQ.f 

Per  Post,  Sir,  we  send  your  MS.  —  look'd  it  thro'  — 
Very  sorry  —  but  can 't  undertake  —  't  would  n't  do. 
Clever  work.  Sir!  —  would  get  up  prodigiously  well — 
Its  only  defect  is  —  it  never  would  sell. 
And  though  Statesmen  may  glory  in  being  unhought, 
In  an  Author,  we  think.  Sir,  that's  rather  a  fault. 

*  This  will  appear  strange  to  an  English  reader,  but  it  is  lit- 
erally translated  from  Abdallah's  Persian,  and  the  curious  bird 
to  which  he  alludes  is  the  Jaftal;  of  which  I  find  the  following 
account  in  Richardson:  — "A  sort  of  bird,  that  is  said  to  have 
but  one  wing;  on  the  opposite  side  to  which  the  male  has  a 
hook  and  the  female  a  ring,  so  that,  when  they  fly,  they  are 
fastened  together." 

t  From  motives  of  delicacy,  and,  indeed,  oi fellow-feeling,! 
suppress  the  name  of  the  Author,  whose  rejected  manuscript 
was  inclosed  in  this  letter.  —  See  the  Appendix,  p.  209. 


200  IXTEBCErTED    LETTERS. 

Hard  times,  Sir,  —  most  books  are  too  dear  to  be 

read  — 
Tliough  the  gold  of  Good-sense  and  Wit's  small-change 

are  fled, 
Yet  the  jyaper  we  Publishers  pass,  in  their  stead, 
Rises  liigher  each  day,  and  ('tis  fi'iglitfid  to  think  it) 
Not  even  sucli  names  as  Fitzgerald's  can  sink  it ! 

However,  Sir  —  if  you're  for  trying  again, 
And  at  somewhat  that's  vendible — we  are  your  men. 

Since    the    Ciievalier    Carr  *    took   to    marrying 
lately, 
The  Trade  is  in  want  of  a  Traveller  greatly  — 
No  job,  Sir,  more  easy  —  your  Country  once  plann'd, 
A  month  aboard  ship  and  a  fortnight  on  land 
Puts  your  Quarto  of  Ti'avels,  Sir,  clean  out  of  hand. 

An  East-India  pamphlet's  a  thing  that  would  tell — 
And  a  lick  at  the  Papists  is  sure  to  sell  well. 
Or  —  supposing  you've  nothing  original  in  you  — 
Write  Parodies,  Sir,  and  such  fame  it  will  win  you, 
You'll  get  to  the  Blue-stocking  Routs  of  Albinialf 
(Mind  —  not  to  her  dinners  —  a  second-hand  Muse 
Must  n't  think  of  aspiring  to  mess  with  the  Blues.) 

*  Sir  John  Carr,  the  author  of  "Tours  in  Irclnml,  Holland, 
Sweden,"  etc.  etc. 

t  Tills  allude?,  I  believe,  to  a  curious  correspondence,  which 
is  said  to  have  passed  lately  between  Albinia,  Countess  of  Buck- 
inghamshire, and  a  certain  ingenious  Parodist. 


INTERCEPTED    LETTERS.  201 

Or — in  case  nothing  else  in  this  world  you  can  do — 
The  deuce  is  in 't,  Sir,  if  you  cannot  review  ! 

Should  you  feel  any  touch  o{ poetical  glow, 
We've  a  scheme  to  suggest:  —  Mr.  Scott,  you  must 

know, 
(Who,  we're   sorry   to  say  it,  now  works  for   the 

Row*) 
Having  quitted  the  Borders,  to  seek  new  renown, 
Is  coming,  by  long  Quarto  stages,  to  Town ; 
And  beginning  with  Rokeby  (the  job 's  sure  to  pay) 
Means  to  do  all  the  Gentlemen's  Seats  on  the  way. 
Now,  the  scheme  is  (though  none  of  our  hackneys 

can  beat  him) 
To  start  a  fresh  Poet  through  Highgate  to  meet  him ; 
Who,  by  means  of  quick  proofs  —  no  revises  —  long 

coaches  — 
May  do  a  few  Villas,  before  Scott  approj^ches. 
Indeed,  if  our  Pegasus  be  not  curst  shabby, 
He'll  reach,  without  found'ring,  at  least  AVoburn- 

Abbey. 
Such,  Sir,  is  our  plan  —  if  you  're  up  to  the  freak, 
'Tis  a  match!  and  we'll  put  you  in  traiyiing  next 

week. 
At   present,  no  more  —  in  reply  to   this  Letter,  a 
Line  will  oblige  very  much 

Yours,  et  cetera. 

Temple  of  the  Muses. 

*  Paternoster  Row. 


202  IXTERCEl'TED    LETTERS. 


LETTER    VIII. 

FROM    COLONEL  THOMAS  TO    SKEFFINGTON,   ESQ. 

Come  to  our  Fete  *,  and  bring  Avith  thee 

Thy  newest,  best  embroidery. 

Come  to  our  Fete,  and  show  again 

That  pea-green  coat,  thou  pink  of  men, 

Which  charm'd  all  eyes,  that  last  survey'd  it ; 

When    Br — mm — I's   self   inquir'd   "  who    made 

it?"— 
When  Cits  came  wond'ring,  from  the  East, 

And  thought  thee  Poet  Pye  at  least ! 

Oh!  come,  (if  haply  'tis  thy  week 
For  looktng  pale,)  with  paly  cheek; 
Though  more  we  love  thy  roseate  days, 
When  the  rich  rouge-pot  pours  its  blaze 
Full  o'er  thy  face,  and,  amply  spread. 
Tips  ev'n  thy  whisker-tops  with  red  — 
Like  the  last  tints  of  dying  Day 
That  o'er  some  darkling  grove  delay. 

Ering  thy  best  lace,  thou  gay  Philander, 
(That  lace,  like  Harry  Alexander, 

*  Tliis  Letter  enclosed  a  Card  for  the  Grand  Fete  on  the  5th 
of  February. 


INTERCEPTED    LETTERS.  203 

Too  precious  to  be  wasli'd,) —  thy  rings, 
Thy  seals  —  in  short,  thy  prettiest  things ! 
Put  all  thy  wardrobe's  glories  on. 
And  yield  in  frogs  and  fringe,  to  none 
But  the  great  Regent's  self  alone ; 
Who  —  by  particular  desire  — 
For  that  night  only,  means  to  hire 
A  dress  from  Romeo  C — tes.  Esquire.* 
Hail,  first  of  Actors  !  f  best  of  Regents  ! 
Born  for  each  other's  fond  allegiance  ! 
Both  gay  Lotharios  —  both  good  dressers  — 
Of  serious  Farce  both  learn'd  Professors  — 
Both  circled  round,  for  use  or  show, 
With  cock's  combs,  wheresoe'er  they  go  !  J 

Thou  knows't  the  time,  thou  man  of  lore  ! 
It  takes  to  chalk  a  ball-room  floor  — 
Thou  know'st  the  time,  too,  well-a-day ! 
It  takes  to  dance  that  chalk  away.§ 


• 


An  amateur  actor  of  much  risible  renown. 

Quem  tu,  Melpomene,  semel 

Nascentem  placido  luviine,  videris,  etc.       Horat. 

The  Man,  upon  whom  thou  hast  deign'd  to  look  funny. 

Oh  Tragedy's  Jluse!  at  the  hour  of  his  birth  — 
Let  them  say  what  they  will,  that 's  the  Man  for  imj  money, 
Give  others  thy  tears,  but  let  me  have  thy  mirth  ! 
J  The  crest  of  Mr.  C — tes,  the  very  amusing  amateur  tragedian 
here  alluded  to,  was  a  cock;  and  most  profusely  were  his  liveries, 
harness,  etc.,  covered  with  this  ornament. 

§   To  those,  who  neither  go  to  balls  nor  read  the  Morning  Post, 
it  may  be  necessary  to  mention,  that  the  floors  of  Ball-rooms,  in 


204  INTEUCEPTED    l.KTTElfS. 

The  Ball-room  opens  —  fai-  and  ni"fh 

Comets  and  suns  beneath  us  lie ; 

O'er  snow-white  moons  and  stars  we  walk, 

And  the  floor  seems  one  sky  of  chalk  ! 

But  soon  shall  fade  that  bright  deceit, 

"When  many  a  maid,  with  busy  feet 

That  sparkle  in  the  lustre's  ray, 

O'er  the  white  path  shall  bound  and  play 

Like  Nymphs  along  the  IMilky  "Way  :  — 

With  every  step  a  star  hath  <led, 

And  suns  grow  dim  beneath  their  tread  ! 

So  passeth  life  —  (thus  Scott  would  write, 

And  spinsters  read  him  witli  delight,)  — 

Hours  are  not  feet,  yet  hours  trip  on, 

Time  is  not  chalk,  yet  time's  soon  gone  !  * 

But,  hang  this  long  digressive  flight !  — 
I  meant  to  say,  thou  'It  see,  that  night, 
"What  falsehood  rankles  in  their  hearts, 
"Who  say  the  Prince  neglects  the  arts  — 
Neglects  the  arts  ?  —  no,  Str — hi — g,t  no ; 
Tlnj  Cupids  answer  "'tis  not  so;" 


general,  are  chalked,  for  safety  and  for  ornament,  with  various 
fanciful  devices. 

Hearts  are  not  flint,  yet  flints  arc  rent, 
Hearts  are  not  steel,  j'et  steel  is  bent. 
After  all,  however,  Jlr.  Scott  may  well  say  to  the  Colonel,  (and, 
indeed,  to  much  better  wags  than  the  Colonel,)  paov  nujiuadaL 

t  A  foreign  artist  much  patronized  by  the  Trince  Regent. 


INTERCEPTED    LETTERS.  205 

And  every  floor,  that  night,  shall  tell 
How  quick  thou  daubest,  and  how  well. 
Shine  as  thou  may'st.in  French  vermilion, 
Thou  'rt  best,  beneath  a  French  cotillion  ; 
And  still  com'st  off,  whate'er  thy  faults, 
Viith.  Jli/ing  colours  in  a  Waltz. 
Nor  need'st  thou  mourn  the  transient  date 
To  thy  best  works  assign'd  by  fate. 
While  some  chef-d'ffiuvres  live  to  weary  one, 
TMne  boast  a  short  life  and  a  merry  one ; 
Their  hour  of  glory  past  and  gone 
With  "  Molly  put  the  kettle  on  !  "  * 

But,  bless  my  soul !  I  've  scarce  a  leaf 
Of  paper  left  —  so,  must  be  brief. 

This  festive  Fete,  in  fact,  will  be 
The  former  Fete's  facsimile  ;  f 
The  same  long  Masquerade  of  Rooms, 
All  trick'd  up  in  such  odd  costumes, 
(These,  Porter,  \  are  thy  glorious  Avorks  !) 
You'd  swear  Egyptians,  Moors,  and  Turks, 
Bearing  Good-Taste  some  deadly  malice, 
Had  clubb'd  to  raise  a  Pic-Nic  Palace  ; 


*  The  name  of  a  popular  country-dance. 

t  "  Carleton  House  will  exhibit  a  complete /oc  S8mi7e,  in  re- 
spect to  interior  ornament,  to  what  it  did  at  the  last  Fete.  The 
same  splendid  draperies,"  etc.  etc.  —  Morning  Post. 

J  Mr.  Walsh  Porter,  to  whose  taste  was  left  the  furnishing  of 
the  rooms  of  Carleton  House. 


206  IXTERCEPTICD    LETTEUS. 

And  each  to  make  the  olio  pleasant 

Had  sent  a  State-Room  as  a  i)resent. 

The  same  fauteuils  and  girandoles  — 

The  same  gold  Asses,*  pretty  souls ! 

That,  in  this  rich  and  classic  dome, 

Api)ear  so  perfectly  at  home  ; 

The  same  bright  river  'mong  the  dishes, 

But  tiot  —  ah  !  not  the  same  dear  fislies:  — 

Late  hours  and  claret  kill'd  the  old  ones  — 

So,  'stead  of  silver  and  of  gold  ones, 

(It  being  rather  hard  to  raise 

Fish  of  that  specie  novv-a-days) 

vSome  sprats  have  been,  by  Yarmouth's  wish, 

Promoted  into  Silver  Fish,  ' 

And  Gudgeons  (so  Yansittart  told 

The  Regent)  are  as  good  as  Gold/ 

So,  prithee,  come  —  our  Fete  -will  be 
But  half  a  Fete  if  wanting  thee. 

*  Tlie  salt-cellars  on  the  Prince's  own  table  were  in  the  foiTa 
of  an  Ass  with  panniers. 


APPENDIX. 


LETTER  IV.   PAGE    188. 

Amoxg  the  papers,  enclosed  in  Dr.  Duigenan's 
Letter,  was  found  an  Heroic  Epistle  in  Latin  verse, 
from  Pope  Joan  to  her  Lover,  of  which,  as  it  is 
rather  a  curious  document,  I  shall  venture  to  give 
some  account.  This  female  Pontiff  was  a  native  of 
England,  (or,  according  to  others,  of  Germany,)  who, 
at  an  early  age,  disguised  herself  in  male  attire,  and 
followed  her  lovei',  a  young  ecclesiastic,  to  Athens, 
where  she  studied  Avith  such  effect,  that  upon  her 
arrival  at  Rome,  she  was  thought  worthy  of  being 
raised  to  the  Pontificate.  This  Epistle  is  addressed 
to  her  Lover  (whom  she  had  elevated  to  the  dignity 
of  Cardinal),  soon  after  the  fatal  accouchement,  by 
which  her  Fallibility  was  betrayed. 

She  begins  by  reminding  him  tenderly  of  the  time, 
when  they  were  together  at  Athens  —  when,  as  she 
says. 


"  by  Ilissus'  stream 

"  "We  whispering  walk'd  along,  and  learn'd  to  speak 
"  The  tenderest  feelings  in  the  purest  Greek ;  — 


208  IXTKUCKPTICI)     I.KTTKIJS. 

"All,  then  liow  little  did  we  think  or  hope, 

"  Dearest  of  men,  that  I  should  e'er  be  Pope  !  * 

"That  I,  the  humble  Joan,  whose  house-wife  art 

"  Seem'd  just  enough  to  keep  thy  house  and  heart, 

"  (And  J^iose,  alas,  at  sixes  and  at  sevens,) 

"  Should  soon  keep  all  the  keys  of  all  the  heavens ! " 

Still  less  (she  continues  to  say)  could  they  have  fore- 
seen, that  such  a  catastrophe  as  had  happened  in 
Council  would  befall  them  —  that  she 

"  Should  thus  surprise  the  Conclave's  gi-ave  decorum, 

"  And  let  a  little  Pope  pop  out  before  'em  — 

"  Pope  Innocent !  alas,  the  only  one 

"  That  name  could  e'er  be  justly  fix'd  upon." 

She  then  very  pathetically  laments  the  downfall  of 
her  greatness,  and  enumerates  the  various  treasures 
to  which  she  is  doomed  to  bid  farewell  for  ever  •  — 

"  But  oh,  more  dear,  more  precious  ten  times  over  — 
"  Farewell  my  Lord,  my  Cai-dinal,  my  Lover  ! 
"I  made  thee  Cardinal — thou  mad'st  me  —  ah! 
"Thou  mad'st  the  Papa  of  the  world  Mamma  !  " 


*  Spanheim  attributes  tlie  unanimity,  with  which  Joan  was 
elected,  to  tliat  irirjate  and  irresistible  cliarm,  b}'  which  lier  sex, 
tliough  iutei>t,  operated  upon  the  instinct  of  tlie  Cardinals  — 
"  Xon  vi  aliqua,  sed  coucorditer,  omnium  in  se  converso  deside- 
rio,  i\nx  sunt  blandientis  scxus  artes,  latentcs  in  hac  quan- 
quam!  " 


APPENDIX.  209 

I  have  not  time  at  present  to  ti-anslate  any  more 
of  this  Epistle  ;  but  I  presume  the  argument  which 
the  Right  Hon.  Doctor  and  his  friends  mean  to 
deduce  from  it,  is  (in  their  usual  convincing  strain) 
that  Eomanists  must  be  unworthy  of  Emancipation 
now,  because  they  had  a  Petticoat  Pope  in  the 
Ninth  Century.  Nothing  can  be  more  logically 
clear,  and  I  find  that  Horace  had  exactly  the  same 
views  upon  the  subject :  — 

Homanus  (elieu  poster!  negabitis!) 

Emancipatus  Fffisiix^ 
Fert  vallum ! 


LETTER   VII.   PAGE   199. 

The  Manuscript,  found  enclosed  in  the  Booksellers' 
Letter,  turns  out  to  be  a  Melo-Drama,  in  two  Acts, 
entitled  "  The  Book,"  *  of  which  the  Theatres,  of 
course,  had  had  the  refusal,  before  it  was  presented  to 
Messrs.  Lackington  and  Co.     This  rejected  Drama, 

*  There  was,  in  like  manner,  a  mysterious  Book,  in  the  16th 
century,  which  employed  all  the  anxious  curiosity  of  the  learned 
of  that  time.  Every  one  spoke  of  it;  many  wrote  against  it; 
though  it  does  not  appear  that  anybody  had  ever  seen  it ;  and 
Grotius  is  of  opinion  that  no  such  Book  ever  existed.  It  was 
entitled  "  Liber  de  tribus  impostoribus."  (See  Morhof.  Cap.  de 
Libris  damnatis.) — Our  more  modern  mystery  of  "  the  Book" 
resembles  this  in  many  particulars ;  and,  if  the  number  of  Law- 
yers employed  in  drawing  it  up  be  stated  correctly,  a  slight  alter- 
ation of  the  title  into  "a  tribus  impostoribus"  would  produce  a 
coincidence  altogether  very  remarkable. 
VOL.  II.  14 


210  INTERCEPTED    LETTERS. 

however,  possesses  considerable  merit,  and  I  shall 
take  the  liberty  of  laying  a  sketch  of  it  before  my 
Readers. 

Tlie  first  Act  opens  in  a  very  awful  manner  — 
Time,  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  —  Scene,  the 
Bourbon  Chamber*  in  Carleton  House  —  Enter 
the  Prince  Regent  solus  —  After  a  few  broken  sen- 
tences, he  thus  exclaims  :  — 

Away  —  Away  — 
Thou  haunt'st  my  fancy  so,  thou  devilish  Book, 
I  meet  thee  —  trace  thee,  wheresoe'er  I  look. 
I  see  thy  damned  ink  in  Eldon's  brows  — 
I  see  thy  foolscap  on  my  Hertford's  Spouse  — 
Vansittart's  head  recalls  thy  leathern  case. 
And  all  tliy  blanic  leaves  stare  from  Rd — r — 's  face ! 
While,  turning  here  {hnjing  his  hand  on  his  heart), 

I  find,  ah  wretched  elf! 
Thy  List  of  dire  Errata  in  myself. 

(  Walks  the  stage  in  considerable  agitation.) 
Oh  Roman  Punch  !  oh  i)otent  Cura^oa  ! 
Oh  IMareschino  !  Mareschino  oh  ! 
Delicious  drams  !  why  have  you  not  the  art 
To  kill  this  gnawing  Book-ivorm  in  my  heart  ? 

He  is  here  interrupted  in  his  Soliloquy  by  perceiv- 

*  The  same  chnmber,  cloubtles<;,  that  was  prepared  for  the 
reception  of  the  Bourbons  at  the  first  Grand  Fete,  and  which 
•was  ornamented  (all  "for  the  Deliverance  of  Europe")  with 
fieurs  de  lys. 


APPENDIX.  211 

ing  on  the  ground  some  sci'ibbled  fragments  of  paper, 
which  he  instantly  collects,  and  "  by  the  light  of  two 
magnificent  candelabras  "  discovers  the  following  un- 
connected words,  '' IF7/e  neglected"  —  ^Hhe  Book"  — 
"  Wrong  Measures  "  —  "  the  Queen  "  —  "  Mt:  Lam- 
bert "  —  ''  the  Regent." 

Ha !    treason   in   my  house  !  —  Curst   words,    that 

wither 
My  princely  soul,  (shaking  the  papers  violently/,)  what 

Demon  brought  you  hither  ?  [look  — 

"  My  Wife ; "  —  "  the  Book  "  too !  —  stay  —  a  nearer 

(holding  the  fragments  closer  to  the  candelabras) 
Alas!  too  plain,  B,  double  O,  K,  Book  — 
Death  and  destruction ! 

He  here  rings  all  the  bells,  and  a  whole  legion  of 
valets  enter.  A  scene  of  cursing  and  swearinsr 
(very  much  in  the  German  style)  ensues,  in  the 
course  of  which  messengers  are  despatched,  in  differ- 
ent directions,  for  the  Lord  Chancellor,  the  Duke  of 
Cumberland,  etc.  etc.  The  intermediate  time  is  filled 
up  by  another  Soliloquy,  at  the  conclusion  of  which 
the  aforesaid  Personages  rush  on  alarm'd  ;  the  Duke 
with  his  stays  only  half-lac'd,  and  the  Chancellor 
with  his  wig  thrown  hastily  over  an  old  red  night- 
cap, "  to  maintain  the  becoming  splendour  of  his 
office."  *     The  Regent  produces  the  appalling  frag- 

*  "  To  enable  the  individual,  who  holds  the  office  of  Chan- 
cellor, to  maintain  it  in  becoming  splendour."  {A  loud  laugh) 
—  Lord  Castlereagu's  Speech  upon  the  Vice- Chancellor's  Bill. 


212  INTlCRCLrXED    LETTERS. 

ments,  upon  ■wiiicli  the  Chancellor  breaks  out  into 
exclamations  of  loyalty  and  tenderness,  and  relates 
the  following  portentous  dream :  — 

'Tis  scarcely  two  hours  since 
I  had  a  fearful  dream  of  thee,  my  Prince  !  — 
Methought  I  heard  thee,  midst  a  courtly  crowd, 
Say  from  thy  throne  of  gold,  in  mandate  loud, 
"Worship    my   whiskers!" — (weejjs)  not  a   knee 

there 
But  bent  and  worshipp'd  the  Illustrious  Pair, 
Which  curl'd  in  conscious  majesty !   (pulls  out  his 

handkerchief)  —  while  cries 
Of  "  Whiskers,  whiskers ! "  shook  the  echoing  skies.  — 
Just  in  that  glorious  hour,  methought,  there  came, 
With  looks  of  injur'd  pride,  a  Princely  Dame, 
And  Ji  young  maiden,  clinging  by  her  side, 
As  if  she  fear'd  some  tyrant  would  divide 
Two  hearts  that  nature  and  affection  tied ! 
The  Matron  came  —  within  her  right  hand  glow'd 
A  radiant  torch ;  while  from  her  left  a  load    [veil  — 
Of  Papers  hung  —  (wipes  his  eyes)  collected  in  her 
The  venal  evidence,  the  slanderous  tale. 
The  wounding  hint,  the  cun-ent  lies  that  pass 
From  Post  to  Courier,  form'd  the  motley  mass  ; 
Which,  with  disdain,  before  the  Throne  she  throws. 
And  lights  the  Pile  beneath  thy  princely  nose. 

(  Weeps.) 
Heav'ns,  how  it  blaz'd  !  —  I'd  ask  no  livelier  fire, 
(  With  animation)  To  roast  a  Papist  by,  my  gracious 

Sii-e !  — 


APPENDIX.  213 

But  all !    the  Evidence  —  (weeps  again)  I  mourn'd 

to  see  — 
Cast,  as  it  burn'd,  a  deadly  light  on  thee : 
And  Tales  and  Hints  their  random  sparkles  flung, 
And  hiss'd  and  crackled,  like  an  old  maid's  tongue ; 
While  Post  and  Courier,  faithful  to  their  fame, 
Made  up  in  stink  for  what  they  lack'd  in  flame. 
When  lo,  ye  Gods !  the  fii-e  ascending  brisker, 
Now  singes  one,  now  lights  the  other  whisker. 
Ah !  where  was  then  the  Sylphid,  tliat  unfurls 
Her  fairy  standard  in  defence  of  curls  ? 
Throne,  Whiskers,  Wig,  soon  vanish'd  into  smoke, 
The  watchman  cried  "  Past  One,"  and  —  I  awoke. 

Here  his  Lordship  weeps  more  profusely  than  ever, 
and  the  Regent  (who  has  been  very  much  agitated 
during  the  recital  of  the  Dream)  by  a  movement  as 
characteristic  as  that  of  Charles  XII.  when  lie  was 
shot,  claps  his  hands  to  his  whiskers  to  see  if  all  be 
really  safe.  A  Privy  Council  is  held  —  all  the  Ser- 
vants, etc.,  are  examined,  and  it  appears  that  a  Tai- 
lor, who  had  come  to  measure  the  Regent  for  a  Dress 
(which  takes  three  whole  pages  of  the  best  superfine 
clinquant  in  describing),  was  the  only  person  who  had 
been  in  the  Bourbon  Chamber  during  the  day.  It  is, 
accordingly,  determined  to  seize  the  Tailor,  and  the 
Council  breaks  up  with  a  unanimous  resolution  to  be 
vigorous. 

The    commencement    of  the    Second    Act    turns 
chiefly  upon   the   Trial   and  Imprisonment  of  two 


214  INTERCEPTED    LETTERS. 

Brothers  *  —  but  as  this  forms  the  under  plot  of  the 
DrauiJi,  I  shall  content  myself  with  extracting  from 
it  the  following  speech,  which  is  addressed  to  the  two 
Brotliers,  as  they  "exeunt  severally"  to  Prison:  — 

Go  to  your  prisons  —  though  the  air  of  Spring 

No  mountain  coolness  to  your  cheeks  shall  bring; 

Though  Summer  flowers  shall  pass  unseen  away, 

And  all  your  portion  of  the  glorious  day 

May  be  some  solitary  beam  that  falls, 

At  morn  or  eve,  upon  your  dreary  walls  — 

Some  beam  that  enters,  trembling  as  if  aw'd, 

To  tell  how  gay  the  young  world  laughs  abroad ! 

Yet  go  —  for  thoughts  as  blessed  as  the  air 

Of  Si)ring  or  Summer  flowers  await  you  there  ; 

Thoughts,  such  as  He,  who  feasts  his  courtly  crew 

In  rich  conservatories,  never  knew  ; 

Pure  self-esteem  —  the  smiles  that  light  within  — 

The  Zeal,  whose  circling  charities  begin 

With  tlie  few  lov'd  ones  Heaven  has  plac'd  it  near, 

And  spread,  till  all  Mankind  are  in  its  sphere  ; 

The  Pride,  that  suffers  without  vaunt  or  plea, 

And  the  fresh  Spirit,  that  can  warble  free. 

Through  prison-bars,  its  hymn  to  Libei'ty ! 

The  Scene  next  changes  to  a  Tailor's  Work-shop, 
and  a  fancifully-arranged  group  of  these  Artists  is 
discovered  ui)Ou  the  Shop-board — Their  task  evi- 

*  Mr.  Loi''h  Hunt  and  his  brother. 


APPENDIX.  215 

dently  of  a  royal  nature,  from  the  profusion  of  gold- 
lace,  frogs,  etc.  that  he  about  —  They  all  rise  and 
come  forward,  while  one  of  them  sings  the  following 
Stanzas  to  the  tune  of  "  Derry  Down." 

My  brave   brother    Tailors,  come,  straighten  your 

knees. 
For  a  moment,  like  gentlemen,  stand  up  at  ease, 
While  I  sing  of  our  Prince  (and  a  fig  for  his  railers) 
The  Shop-board's  delight !  the  Mtecenas  of  Tailors ! 
Derry  down,  down,  down  derry  down. 

Some  monarchs  take  roundabout  ways  into  note, 
While  His  short   cut  to  fame   is  —  the  cut  of  his 

coat; 
Philip's  Son  thought  the  World  was  too  small  for 

his  Soul, 
But  our  Regent's  finds  room  in  a  lac'd  button-hole. 

Derry  down,  etc. 

Look  through  all  Europe's  Kings  —  those,  at  least, 

AVho  go  loose  — 
Not  a  King  of  them  all's  such  a  friend  to  the  Goose. 
So,  God  keep  him  increasing  in  size  and  renown. 
Still  the  fattest  and  best  fitted  Prince  about  town ! 

Derry  down,  etc. 

During  the  "  Derry  down"  of  this  last  verse,  a  Mes- 
senger from  the  Secretary  of  State's  Office  rushes 
on,  and  the  singer  (who,  luckily  for  the  effect  of  the 
scene,  is  the  very  Tailor  suspected  of  the  mysterious 


216  INTERCEPTED    LETTERS. 

fragments)  is  interrupted  in  tlie  midst  of  his  lauda- 
tory exertions,  and  huri-ied  away,  to  the  no  small 
surprise  and  consternation  of  his  comrades.  The 
Plot  now  hastens  rapidly  in  its  development  —  the 
management  of  the  Tailor's  examination  is  highly 
skilful,  and  the  alarm,  which  he  is  made  to  betray, 
is  natural  without  being  ludicrous.  The  explanation, 
too,  which  he  finally  gives  is  not  more  simple  than 
satisfactory.  It  appears  tliat  the  said  fragments 
formed  part  of  a  self-exculpatory  note,  which  he 
had  intended  to  send  to  Colonel  M'Mahon  upon  sub- 
jects purely  professional,  and  the  corresponding  bits 
(which  still  lie  luckily  in  his  pocket)  being  produced, 
and  skilfully  laid  beside  the  others,  the  following 
billet-doux  is  the  satisfactory  result  of  their  juxta- 
position. 

Honour'd  Colonel  —  my  Wife,  who 's  the  Queen  of 

all  slatterns, 
Neglected  to  put  up  the  Book  of  new  Patterns. 
She    sent    the   wrong    Measures    too  —  shamefully 

wrong  — 
They're  the  same  us'd  for  poor  Mr.  Lambert,  when 

young ; 
Bat,  bless  you !  they  wouldn  't  go   half  round  the 

Regent  — 
.So,  hope  you'll  excuse  yours  till  death,  most  obedient. 

This  fully  explains  the  whole  mystery  —  ther  Regent 
resumes  his  wonted  smiles,  and  the  Drama  termi- 
nates as  usual,  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  parties. 


SATIRICAL  AND  HUMOROUS  POEMS. 


2X0AAZ0NT0S  A2X0AIA. 


SATIRICAL   AND  HOIOROUS  POEMS. 


THE  INSURRECTION  OF  THE  PAPERS. 

A  DEEAM. 

"  It  would  be  impossible  for  his  Royal  Highness  to  disengage  his  person 
from  the  accumulating  pile  of  papers  that  encompassed  it.''—  Lord  Casile- 
EEAGH'S  Speech  upon  Colonel  ^PMahons  Appointment,  April  1-1,  1812. 

Last  night  I  toes'd  and  turn'd  in  bed, 
But  could  not  sleep  —  at  length  I  said, 
"  I  '11  think  of  Viscount  Castlereagh, 
"And  of  his  speeches  —  that's  the  way." 
And  so  it  was,  for  instantly 
I  slept  as  sound  as  sound  could  be. 
And  then  I  dreamt  —  so  dread  a  dream  ! 
Fuseli  has  no  such  theme ; 
Lewis  never  wrote  or  borrow'd 
Any  horror,  half  so  horrid ! 

Methought  the  Prince,  in  whisker'd  state, 
Before  me  at  his  breakfast  sate  ; 
On  one  side  lay  unread  Petitions, 
On  t'other,  Hints  from  five  Physicians  ; 
Here  tradesmen's  bills,  —  official  papers, 
Notes  from  my  Lady,  drams  for  vapours  — 


220  SATIRICAL    AND    HUMOROUS    POEMS. 

There,  plans  of  saddles,  loa  and  toast, 
Death-wari'ants  and  the  Morning  Post. 

Wlien  lo !  the  Papers,  one  and  all, 
As  if  at  some  magician's  call, 
Began  to  flutter  of  themselves 
From  desk  and  table,  floor  and  shelves ; 
And,  cutting  each  some  different  capers, 
Advanc'd,  ol\  Jacobinic  papers  I 
As  though  tliey  said,  "  Our  sole  design  is 
"  To  suflfbcate  his  Royal  Highness  !  " 
The  Leader  of  this  vile  sedition 
Was  a  huge  Catholic  Petition, 
With  grievances  so  full  and  heavy. 
It  tlireaten'd  worst  of  all  the  bevy. 
Then  Common-Hall  Addresses  came 
In  swaggering  sheets,  and  took  tlieir  aim 
Right  at  the  Regent's  well-dress'd  liead. 
As  if  delermhiid  to  be  read. 
Next  Tradesmen's  Bills  began  to  fly. 
And  Tradesmen's  Bills,  we  know,  mount  high  ; 
Nay  ev'n  Death-warrants  thought  they'd  best 
Be  lively  too,  and  join  the  rest. 

But,  oil  the  basest  of  defections  ! 
His  Letter  about  "  predilections  "  — 
His  own  dear  Letter,  void  of  grace. 
Now  flew  up  in  its  parent's  face  ! 
Shock'd  with  tliis  breach  of  filial  duty, 
He  just  could  murmur  "  et  Tu  Brute  ? '' 


SATIRICAL    AND    IIUMOKOUS    POKMS.  221 

Then  sunk,  subdued  upon  the  floor 
At  Fox's  bust,  to  rise  no  more ! 

I  wak'd  —  and  pray'd,  with  lifted  hand, 
"  Oh  !  never  may  this  Dream  prove  true ; 
"  Though  paper  overwhelms  the  land, 
"  Let  it  not  crush  the  Sovereign  too  ! " 


PAEODY  OF  A  CELEBRATED  LETTER* 

At  length,  dearest  Freddy,  the  moment  is  nigh. 
When,  with  Perceval's  leave,  I  may  throw  my  chains 

by; 

And,  as  time  now  is  precious,  the  first  thing  I  do, 
Is  to  sit  down  and  write  a  wise  letter  to  you. 

*  *  *                 * 

*  *  *                 * 

*  *  *                 * 

*  *  *                 * 

*  *  *                 * 

*  *  *                  * 

I  meant  before  now  to  have  sent  you  this  Letter, 
But  Yarmouth  and  I  thought  perhaps  'twould  be 

better 
To  wait  till  the  Irish  affairs  were  decided  — 
(That  is,  till  both  Houses  had  prosed  and  divided, 

*  Letter  from  his  Eoyal  Highness  the  Prince  Regent  to  the 
Duke  of  Yorlv,  Feb.  13,  1812. 


'222  SATIKICAL    AND    llLMOIiOUS    TOEMS. 

"With  all  due  appearance  of  thought  and  digestion)  — 
For,  thoujjh  Hertford  House  had  long  settled  the 

question,  ^ 

I  thought  it  but  decent,  between  me  and  jou, 
That  the  two  other  Houses  should  settle  it  too. 

I  need  not  remind  you  liow  cursedly  bad 
Our   affairs  were   all   looking,  when    Father  went 

mad ;  * 
A  strait-waistcoat  on  him  and  restrictions  on  me, 
A  more  limited  Monarchy  could  not  well  be. 
I  was  call'd  upon  then,  in  that  moment  of  puzzle, 
To  choose  my  own  Minister — just  as  they  muzzle 
A  playful  young  bear,  and  then  mock  his  disaster, 
By  bidding  him  choose  out  his  own  dancing-master. 

I  thought  the  best  way,  as  a  dutiful  son, 
Was  to  do  as  Old  Royalty's  self  would  have  done.f 
So  I  sent  word  to  say,  I  would  keep  the  whole  batch 

in. 
The  same  chest  of  tools,  without  cleansing  or  patch- 
ing; 
For  tools  of  this  kind,  like  Martinus's  sconce,J 
Would  lose  all  their  beauty,  if  purified  once; 

*  "I  think  it  linrdly  necessary  to  call  your  rpcolloction  to  the 
recent  circumstances  under  which  I  assumed  the  authority  dele- 
gated to  me  by  Parliament." — Prince's  Letter. 

t  "  My  sense  of  duty  to  our  Eoyal  father  solely  decided  that 
choice."  —  Ibid. 

t  The  antique  shield  of  Martinus  Scriblerus,  -which,  npou 
scouring,  turned  out  to  be  only  an  old  sconce. 


SATIRICAL    AND    HUMOROUS    POEMS.  223 

And  think  —  only  think  —  if  our  Father  should  find, 
Upon  graciously  coming  again  to  his  mind,* 
That   improvement   had   spoil'd   any  favourite   ad- 
viser — 
That   Kose   was   grown   honest,  or   Westmoreland 

wiser  — 
That    K — d — r    was,   ev'n    by    one    twinkle,    the 

brighter  — 
Or  Liverpool's  speeches  but  half  a  pound  lighter  — 
What  a  shock  to  his  old  royal  heart  it  would  be  ! 
;No  !  —  far  were  such  dreams  of  improvement  from 

me : 
And  it  pleased  me  to  find,  at  the  House,  Avhere,  you 

know,t 
There's  such  good  mutton  cutlets,  and  strong  cur- 

a^oa,! 
That  the  Marchioness  call'd  me  a  duteous  old  boy. 
And  my  Yarmouth's  red  whiskers  grew  redder  for 

joy- 

You  know,  my  dear  Freddy,  how  oft,  if  I  would, 
By  the  law  of  last  Sessions  I  might  have  done  good. 
I  might  have  withheld  these  political  noodles 
From   knocking   their   heads   against   hot   Yankee 
Doodles ; 

*  "  I  waved  any  personal  gratification,  in  order  that  his  Maj- 
esty might  resume,  on  his  restoration  to  health,  every  power  and 
prerogative,"  etc.  —  Prince's  Letter, 

t  "  And  I  have  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  such  was  the 
opinion  of  persons  for  whose  judgment,"  etc.  etc.  —  Ihid. 

X  The  letter-writer's  favourite  luncheon. 


224  SATIRICAL   AND    HU.MOROUS   POEMS. 

I  might  have  told  Ireland  I  pitied  her  lot, 

Might  have  sooth'd  her -with  hope  —  but  you  know 

I  did  not. 
And  my  wish  is,  in  truth,  that  the  best  of  old  fellows 
Should  not,  on  recovering,  hav,e  cause  to  be  jealous, 
But  find  that,  while  he  has  been  laid  on  the  shelf, 
We  've  been  all  of  us  nearly  as  mad  as  himself. 
You  smile  at  my  hopes  —  but  the  Doctors  and  I, 
Are  the  last  that  can  think  the  King  ever  will  die.* 

A  new  era's  arriv'd  f  —  though  you  'd  hardly  be- 
lieve it  — 

And  all  tilings,  of  course,  must  be  new  to  receive  it. 

New  villas,  new  fetes  (which  ev'n  "Waithman  at- 
tends) — 

New  saddles,  new  helmets,  and  —  why  not  new 
friends  ? 

ff:  yf:  ^  1^ 

T^  yf:  7^  ^ 

I  repeat  it,  "  New  Friends  "  —  for  I  cannot  describe 
The  delight  I  am  in  with  this  Perceval  tribe. 
Such  capering !  —  Such  vapouring  !  —  Such  rigour ! 

—  Such  vigour ! 
North,  South,  East,  and  West,  they  have  cut  such  a 

figure, 

*  "  I  certainly  am  the  last  person  in  the  kingdom  to  whom  it 
can  be  permitted  to  despair  of  our  royal  father's  recovery." 
—  Prince's  Letter. 

t  "  A  new  era  is  now  arrived,  and  I  cannot  but  reflect  with 
satisfaction,"  etc.  —  Ibid. 


SATIRICAL    AND    HUMOROUS    POEMS.  225 

That  soon  they  will  bring  the  whole  world  round 

our  ears, 
And  leave  us  no  friends  —  but  Old  Nick  and  Algiers. 

"When  I  think  of  the  glory  they've  beam'd  on  my 

chains, 
'Tis  enough  quite  to  turn  my  illustrious  brains. 
It  is  true  we  are  bankrupts  in  commerce  and  riches, 
But  think  how  we  find  our  Allies  in  new  breeches ! 
We've  lost  the  warm  hearts  of  the  Irish,  'tis  gi-anted. 
But  then  we  've  got  Java,  an  island  much  wanted. 
To  put  the  last  lingering  few  who  remain, 
Of  the  Walcheren  warriors,  out  of  their  pain. 
Then  how  Wellington  fights!    and  how   squabbles 

his  brother ! 
For  Papists  the  one,  and  loith  Papists  the  other ; 
One  crushing  Napoleon  by  taking  a  City, 
While  t'other  lays  waste  a  whole  Cath'lic  Committee. 
Oh  deeds  of  renown  !  —  shall  I  boggle  or  flinch. 
With  such  prospects  before  me  ?  by  Jove,  not  an  inch. 
No  —  let  England's  aflfliirs  go  to  rack,  if  they  will, 
We'll  look  after  th'  affairs  of  the  Continent  still; 
And,  with  nothing  at  home  but  starvation  and  riot, 
Find  Lisbon  in  bread,  and  keep  Sicily  quiet. 

I  am  proud  to  declare  I  have  no  predilection?,* 
My  heart  is  a  siev^,  where  some  scatter'd  affections 


*  "I  have  no  predilections  to  indulge,  —  no  resentments  to 
gratify." — Prince's  Letlei: 

VOL.  n.  15 


22G  SATIRICAL    AND    HUMOROUS    POEMS. 

Are  jii-;t  dancM  about  for  a  moment  or  two, 
And  the  f  net-  they  are,  the  more  sure  to  run  throucrh: 
Neither  feel  I  resentments,  nor  wish  there  should 
come  ill  [rael, 

To  mortal  —  except  (now  I  think  on 't)  Beau  Brum- 
Who  tlireaten'd  last  year,  in  a  superfine  passion, 
To  cut  7ne,  and  bring  the  old  King  into  fashion. 
This  is  all  I  can  lay  to  my  conscience  at  present ; 
When  such  is  my  temper,  so  neutral,  so  pleasant, 
So  royally  free  from  all  troublesome  feelings, 
So  little  encumber'd  by  faith  in  my  dealings 
(And  that  I'm  consistent  the  world  will  allow, 
What  T  was  at  Newmarket  the  same  I  am  now). 
When  such  are  my  merits  (you  know  I  hate  cracking), 
I  hope,  like  the  Vender  of  Best  Patent  Blacking, 
"  To  meet  with  the  gen'rous  and  kind  approbation 
"  Of  a  candid,  enlighten'd,  and  liberal  nation." 

By  the  by,  ere  I  close  this  magnificent  Letter, 
(No  man,  except  Pole,  could  have  writ  you  a  better,) 
'T would  please  me  if  those,  whom  I've  humbug'd 

so  long  * 
With  the  notion  (good  men  !)  that  I  knew  right  from 

wrong, 
Would  a  few  of  them  join  me  —  mind,  only  a  few  — 
To  let  too  much  light  in  on  me  never  would  do ; 

*  "  I  cannot  conclude  witliout  expressinj;  the  gratification  I 
should  feel  if  some  of  those  persons  with  whom  the  early  habits 
of  my  public  life  were  formed  would  stren<rthen  my  hands,  and 
constitute  a  part  of  my  government." —  Priiue's  Lttter. 


SATIRICAL    AND    HU5I0R0US    POEMS.  227 

But  even  Grey's  brightness  shan't  make  me  afraid, 
While  I  've  Camden  and  Eldon  to  fly  to  for  shade ; 
Nor  will  Holland's  clear  intellect  do  us' much  harm, 
While  there's  Westmoreland  near  him  to  weaken 

the  charm. 
As  for  Moira's  high  spirit,  if  aught  can  subdue  it, 
Sure  joining  with  Hertford  and  Yarmouth  will  do  it ! 
Between  R — d — r  and  Wharton  let  Sheridan  sit. 
And  the  fogs  will  soon  quench  even  Sheridan's  wit: 
And  against  all  the  pure  public  feeling  that  glows 
Even  in  Whitbread  himself  we've  a  Host  in  George 

Rose ! 
So,  in  short,  if  they  wish  to  have  Places,  they  may. 
And  I'll  thank  you  to  tell  all  these  matters  to  Grey,* 
Who,  I  doubt  not,  will  write  (as  there's  no  time  to 

lose) 
By  the  twopenny  post  to  tell  Grenville  the  news ; 
And  now,  dearest  Fred  (though  I've  no  predilection), 
Believe  me  yours  always  with  truest  atfection. 

P.  S.     A  copy  of  this  is  to  Perceval  going  —  t 
Good  Lord,  how  St.  Stephen's  will  ring  Avith  his 
crowing ! 

*  "You  nre  authorized  to  communicate  tlicse  sentmients  to 
Lord  Grey,  who,  I  have  no  doubt,  will  make  them  known  to 
Lord  Grenville." — Prince's  Letter. 

t  "  I  shall  send  a  copy  of  this  letter  immediately  to  Mr.  Per- 
cevaL" — Prince'' s  Letter. 


228  SATiniCAL    AXD    HUMOROUS   rOEMS. 


ANACREONTIC   TO   A    PLUMASSIER. 

Fink  and  feathery  artisan, 
Best  of  Pluniists  (if  you  can 
With  your  art  so  far  presume) 
Make  for  me  a  Frince's  Plume  — 
Feathers  soft  and  feathers  rare, 
Such  as  suits  a  Prince  to  wear. 

First,  thou  downiest  of  men, 
Seek  me  out  a  fine  Pea-lien  ; 
Suclr  a  lien,  so  tall  and  grand. 
As  by  Juno's  side  might  stand, 
If  there  were  no  cocks  at  hand. 
Seek  her  feathers,  soft  as  down, 
Fit  to  shine  on  Prince's  crown ; 
If  thou  canst  not  find  them,  stupid ! 
Ask  the  way  of  Prior's  Cupid.* 

Eamrinsr  these  in  order  due, 
Pluck  me  next  an  old  Cuckoo ; 
Emblem  of  the  happy  fates 
Of  easy,  kind,  cornuted  mates. 
Pluck  him  well  —  be  sure  you  do  — 
Who  wouldn't  be  an  old  Cuckoo, 
Thus  to  have  his  plumage  blest, 
Beaming  on  a  Royal  crest  ? 

*  See  Prior's  poem,  entitled  "  The  Dove." 


SATIRICAL    AND    HUMOROUS    POEMS.  229 

Bravo,  Plumist !  —  now  what  bird 
Shall  we  find  for  Plume  the  third  ? 
You  must  get  a  learned  Owl, 
Bleakest  of  black-letter  fowl  — 
Bigot  bird,  that  hates  the  light,* 
Foe  to  all  that's  fair  and  bright. 
Seize  his  quills,  (so  form'd  to  pen 
Books,t  that  shun  the  search  of  men ; 
Books,  that,  far  from  every  eye. 
In  "  swelter'd  venom  sleeping  "  lie,) 
Stick  them  in  between  the  two, 
Proud  Pea-hen  and  Old  Cuckoo. 
IVow  you  have  the  triple  feather, 
Bind  the  kindred  stems  together 
With  a  silken  tie,  whose  hue 
Once  was  brilliant  Buff  and  Blue ; 
Sullied  now  —  alas,  how  much  ! 
Only  fit  for  Yarmouth's  touch. 

There  —  enough  —  thy  task  is  done  ; 
Present,  worth)'  George's  Son  ; 
Kow,  beneath,  in  letters  neat, 
AVrite  "I  serve,"  and  all's  complete. 

*  Perce viil. 

t  In  allusion  to  -'the  Book"  -wliich  created  such  a  sensation 
at  that  period. 


230  SATIinCAh    AND    1IUMOKOU3    POEMS. 


EXTRACTS  FROM  THE  DIARY   OF  A 
POLITICIAN. 

Wednesday. 

Through   Manchester    Square  took  a  canter  just 

now  — 
Met  tlie  old  yclloiv  chariot*  and  made  a  low  bow. 
This  I  did,  of  course,  thinking  'twas  loyal  and  civil, 
But  got  such  a  look  —  oh  'twas  black  as  the  devil ! 
How  unlucky  !  —  incog,  he  was  trav'lling  about, 
And  I,  like  a  noodle,  must  go  find  him  out. 

3Tem.  —  when  next  by  the  old  yellow  chariot  I  ride, 
To  remember  there  is  nothing  princely  inside. 

Thursday. 
At  Levee  to-day  made  another  sad  blunder  — 
What  can  be  come  over  me  lately,  I  wonder  ? 
The  Pi-ince  was  as  cheerful,  as  if,  all  his  life. 
He  had  never  been  troubled  with  Friends  or  a  Wife  — 
"  Fine  weather,"  says  he  —  to  Avhich  I,  who  must 

prate, 
Answered,  "  Yes,  Sir,  but  changeable  rather,  of  late." 
He  took  it,  I  fear,  for  he  look'd  somewhat  gruff, 
And  handled  his  new  pair  of  whiskers  so  rough, 

*  The  {nco(j.  vehicle  of  the  Prince. 


SATIRICAL    AND    HLJIOItOUS    POEMS.  231 

That  before  all  the  courtiers  I  fear'd  they'd  come  off, 
And  then,  Lord,  how  Geramb  *  would  triumphantly 
scoff! 

3Iem.  —  to  buy  for  son  Dicky  some  unguent  or  lotion 
To  nourish  his  whiskers  —  sure  road  to  promotion  !  t 

Saturday. 

Last  night  a  Concert  —  vastly  gay  — 
Given  by  Lady  Castlereagh. 
My  Lord  loves  music,  and,  we  know, 
Has  "  two  strings  always  to  his  bow.''  % 

In  choosing  songs,  the  Regent  nam'd 
^'■Had  la  heart  for  falsehood  f ram' d,"  — 
While  gentle  Hertford  begg'd  and  pray'd 
For  "  Toung  lam,  and  sore  afraid." 

*   Earon  Geramb,  the  rival  of  his  R.  H.  in  whiskers. 

t  England  is  not  the  only  country  where  merit  of  this  kind  is 
noticed  and  rewarded.  "  1  remember,"  says  Tavernier,  "  to 
have  seen  one  of  the  King  of  Pei-sia's  porters,  whose  mustaches 
were  so  long  that  he  could  tie  them  behind  his  neck,  for  which 
reason  he  had  a  double  pension." 

X  A  rhetorical  figure  used  by  Lord  Castlereagh,  in  one  of 
his  speeches. 


232  SATIKICAL    AND    IIUjrOROUS    POEMS. 


EPIGRAM. 

AViiAT  news  to-day  ?  —  "  Oh  !  worse  and  worse  — 
"  Mac  *  is  the  Prince's  Privy  Purse !  "  — 
The  Prince's  Purse  !  no,  no,  you  fool, 
You  mean  the  Prince's  Hidicide. 


KING   CRACK  t  AND   HIS   IDOLS. 

WRITTEN  AFTER  THE  LATE   NEGOTIATION   FOR   A   NEW 
MINISTRY. 

King  Crack  was  the  best  of  all  possible  Kings, 
(At  least,  so  his   Courtiers  would  swear  to  you 
gladly,) 

But  Crack  now  and  then  would  do  het'rodox  things, 
And,  at  last,  took  to  worsliipping  Images  sadly. 

Some  broken-down  Idols,  that  long  had  been  plac'd 
In  his  father's  old  Cabinet,  pleas'd  him  so  much, 

*  Colonel  Macmahon. 

t  One  of  those  antediluvian  Prince?,  with  whom  Manetho 
and  Whiston  seem  so  intimately  acquainted.  If  we  had  the 
Memoirs  of  Thotli,  from  which  Manetho  compiled  his  History,  we 
should  find,  I  dare  say,  that  Crack  was  only  a  Regent,  and  that 
he,  perhaps,  succeeded  Typhon,  wlio  (as  Whiston  says)  was  the 
last  King  of  the  Antediluvian  Dynastj-. 


SATIRICAL    AND    HUMOROUS    POEMS.  233 

That  he  knelt  down  and  worshipp'd,  though  —  such 

was  his  taste !  —  [touch. 

They  w^ere  monstrous  to  look  at,  and  rotten  to 

And  these  were  the  beautiful  Gods  of  King  Crack!  — 

But  his  People,  disdaining  to  woi-ship  such  things, 

Cried  aloud,  one  and  all,  "  Come,  your  Godships 

must  pack  — 
"  You'll  not  do  for  us,  though  you  7na!/  do  for  Kings." 

Then,  trampling  these  images  under  their  feet. 
They  sent   Crack  a  petition,  beginning  "  Great 
CiEsar ! 
"  "We  're  willing  to  worship  ;  but  only  entreat 

"  That  you  '11  find  us  some  decenter  Godheads  than 
■    these  are." 

"I'll  try,"  says  King  Crack  —  so  they  furnish'd  him 

models 

Of  better  shap'd  Gods,  but  he  sent  them  all  back ; 

Some  were  chisell'd  too  fine,  some  had  heads  'stead 

of  noddles. 

In  short,  they  were  all  much  too  godlike  for  Crack. 

So  he  took  to  his  darling  old  Idols  again, 

And,  just  mending  their  legs  and  new  bronzing 
their  faces. 
In  open  defiance  of  Gods  and  of  man. 

Set  the  monsters  up  grinning  once  more  in  their 
places. 


234         SATIRICAL    AXD    HUMOROUS   POEMS. 


WHAT'S   MY   THOUGHT  LHvE? 

Quest.  Why  is  a  Pump  like  Viscount  Castlereagh  ? 

Answ.  Because  it  is  a  slender  thing  of  wood, 
That  up  and  down  its  awkward  arm  doth  sway, 
And  coolly  spout  and  spout  and  spout  away. 

In  one  weak,  washy,  everlastuig  flood ! 


EPIGRAir: 

DIALOGUE  BETWEEN  A   CATHOLIC   DELEGATE  AND   HIS 
KOYAL   HIGHNESS  THE   DUKE  OF   CUMBERLAND. 

Said  his  Highness  to  Ned,*  with  that  grim  face  of  his, 
"  Why  refuse  us  the  Veto,  dear  Catholic  Neddy  ?  " 

"  Because,  Sir,"  said  Ned,  looking  full  in  his  phiz, 
"You're    forbidding   enough,    in    all    conscience, 
already ! " 

•  Edward  BjTne,  the  head  of  the  Delegates  of  the  Irish  Cath- 
olics. 


SATIRICAL    AND    HUilOROUS    POEMS.  235 


WREATHS  FOR   THE  MINISTERS. 

AN  ASACREO>TlC. 

Hither,  Flora,  Queen  of  Flowers ! 
Haste  thee  from  Old  Brompton's  bowers  — 
Or,  (if  sweeter  that  abode,) 
From  the  King's  well-odour'd  Road, 
"WTiere  each  little  nursery  bud 
Breathes  the  dust  and  quaffs  the  mud. 
Hither  come  and  gaily  twine 
Brightest  herbs  and  flowers  of  thine 
Into  wreaths  for  those,  Avho  rule  us, 
Those,  who  rule  and  (some  say)  fool  us  — 
Flora,  sure,  will  love  to  please 
England's  Household  Deities !  * 

First  you  must  then,  willy-nilly, 
Fetch  me  many  an  orange  hly  — 
Orange  of  the  darkest  dye 
Irish  Gifford  can  supply  ;  — 

*  The  ancients,  in  like  manner,  crowned  their  Lares,  or 
Household  Gods.  See  Juvenal,  Sat.  9.  v.  138.  — Plutarch,  too, 
tells  us  that  Household  Gods  were  then,  as  they  are  now,  "  much 
given  to  AVar  and  penal  Statutes."' — epuvvudec^  koi  ■koivijj.ou^ 
daifurvaQ. 


236  SATIRICAL    AND    HUMOROUS    rOESIS. 

Choose  me  out  tlie  ]on<re?t  sprig, 
And  stick  it  in  old  Eldon's  \vi<i. 

Find  me  next  a  Poppy  posy, 
Ty])e  of  his  harangues  so  dozy, 
Garland  gaudy,  dull  and  cool. 
To  crown  the  head  of  Liverpool. 
'T  will  console  his  brilliant  brows 
For  that  loss  of  laurel  boughs, 
Which  they  suifcr'd  (what  a  pity !) 
On  the  road  to  Paris  City. 

Next,  our  Castlereagli  to  crown, 
Bring  me  from  the  County  Down, 
Wither'd  Shamrocks,  which  have  been 
Gilded  o'er,  to  hide  the  green  — 
(Such  as  Headfort  brought  away 
From  Pall-Mnll  last  Patrick's  Day)  —  * 
Stitch  the  garland  through  and  through 
With  shabby  threads  of  every  hue  ;  — 
And  as.  Goddess  !  —  entre  nous  — 
His  Lordship  loves  (though  best  of  men) 
A  little  torture,  now  and  then. 
Crimp  Uie  leaves,  thou  first  of  Syrens, 
Crimp  them  with  thy  curling-irons. 

That's  enough  —  away,  away  — 
Had  I  leisure,  I  could  say 

*  Certain  tinsel  imitations  of  tlic  Sliamrock  which  are  dis- 
tributed by  tlie  Servants  of  Carleton  House  every  Patrick's  Day, 


SATIRICAL    AXU    HUMOROUS    POEMS.  237 

How  the  oldest  rose  that  grows 

Must  be  pkick'd  to  deck  Old  Rose  —     ■ 

How  the  Doctor's  *  brow  should  smile 

Crown'd  with  v.'reaths  of  camomile. 

But  time  presses  —  to  thy  taste 

I  leave  the  rest,  so  prjthee,  haste ! 


EPIGRAM. 

DIALOGUE   BETWEEN  A  DOWAGER  AND   HER   MAID   ON   THE 
KIGHT  OF  LORD   YARMOUTH'S  FETE. 

"  I  WANT  the  Court  Guide,"  said  my  lady,  "  to  look 

"  If  the  House,  Seymour  Place,  be  at  30.  or  20." — 
""We've  lost  the    Court   Guide,  Ma'am,  but  here's 
the  Red  Booh, 
"  Where  you  '11  find,  I  dare  say,  Seymour  Places 
in  plenty ! " 

*  The  sobriquet  given  to  Lord  Sidmouth. 


238  SATIUIC-VL    AND    lir.MOUOLS    I'OEMS. 

V 

HORACE,   ODE   XL   LIB.   IL 

FREELY   TUAKSLATED    BY  THE  PKINCE   KEOENT.* 

t  Come,  Yarmouth,   my^  boy,   never   trouble    your 
brains, 

About  what  your  old  crony, 

The  Emperor  Boney, 
Is  doing  or  brewing  on  Muscovy's  plains ; 

X  Nor  tremble,  my  lad,  at  the  state  of  our  granaries  : 

Should  there  come  famine,  ■ 

Still  plenty  to  cram  in  [naries. 

You  always  shall  have,  my  dear  Lord  of  the  Stan- 
Brisk  let  us  revel,  while  revel  we  may ; 
§  For  the  gay  bloom  of  fifty  soon  passes  away, 

And  then  people  get  fat. 

And  infirm,  and  —  all  that, 

*  This  and  the  following  are  extracted  from  a  Work,  which 
may,  some  time  or  other,  meet  the  eye  of  the  Public  —  entitled 
"  Odes  of  Horace,  done  into  English  by  several  Persons  of 
Fashion." 

Quid  bcllicosus  Cantaber,  et  Scythes, 
Hirpine  Quincti,  cogitct,  Hadria 
Dlvisus  objecto,  remittas 
Quasrere. 

Nee  trepides  in  nsum 
Poscentis  a;vi  pauca. 

Fugit  retro 
Levis  juventas  et  decor. 


SATIRICAL    AND    HUMOROUS    POEMS.  239 

*  And  a  wig  (I  confess  it)  so  clumsily  sits, 

That  it  frightens  the  little  Loves  out  of  their  wits ; 

t  Thy  whiskers,  too,  Yarmouth  !  —  alas,  even  they, 

Tliough  so  rosy  they  burn, 

Too  quickly  must  turn       •  [to  Grey. 

(What  a  heart-breaking  change  for  thy  whiskers  I) 

X  Then  why,  my  Lord  AYarden,  oh  !  why  should  you 
fidget 
Your  mind  about  matters  you  don't  understand  ? 
Or  why  should  you  write  yourself  down  for  an  idiot, 
Because  "  you,"  forsooth,  "  have  the  pen  in  your 
hand !  " 

Think,  think  how  much  better 
Than  scribbling  a  letter, 
(Which  both  you  and  I 
Should  avoid  by  the  by,) 
§  How  much  pleasauter  't  is  to  sit  under  the  bust 
Of  old  Charley,||   my  friend  here,  and  di'ink  like 
a  new  one 


Pellente  lascivos  amores 
Canitie. 

Neque  uno  Luna  rubens  nitet 
Vultu. 

Quid  £cternis  minoreni 
Consiliis  animum  fatigas? 
Cur  non  sub  alta  vel  platano,  vel  hac 
Pinu  jacentes  sic  temere. 
Charles  Fox. 


240  SATIUICAL    AND    HUMOROUS    POEMS. 

Wliile  Charley  looks  sulky  and  frowns  at  me,  just 
As  the  Ghost  in  the  Pantomime  frowns  at  Don 
Juan. 

*  To  crown  us,  Lord  "Warden, 

In  Cumberland's  garden 
Grows  plenty  of  monies  hood  in  venomous  sprigs  : 

While  Otto  of  Roses 

Refreshing  all  noses 
Shall  sweetly  exhale  from  our  whiskers  and  wigs. 

t  What  youth  of  the  Household  will  cool  our  Noyau 

In  that  streamlet  delicious. 

That  down  'midst  the  dishes. 

All  full  of  gold  fishes, 

Romantic  doth  liow?  — 
X  Or  who  will  repair 

Unto  Manchester  Square, 
And  see  if  the  gentle  Marchesa  be  there  ? 

Go  —  bid  her  haste  hither, 
§  And  let  her  bring  with  her 

Rosa 
Canos  odomti  capillos, 
Duni  licet,  Assyriaque  nardo 
Potamus  uncti. 

Quis  puer  ocius 
Eestinguet  ardentis  Falenii 
Voc\x\a.  prcetereunte  lyiiiphaf 

Quis eliciet  domo 

Lydcn  ? 
'  P^burna,  die  age,  cum  lyra  (qu.  Uar-a) 

JIaturet. 


SATIRICAL    AXD    nUlIOROUS    POEMS.  241 

The  newest  No-Popery  Sermon  that's  going  — 
*  Oh  !  let  her  come,  with  her  dark  tresses  flowing, 
All  gentle  and  juvenile,  curly  and  gay, 
In  the  manner  of —  Ackermann's  Dresses  for  May  ! 


HORACE,  ODE  XXII.  LIB.  I. 

FREELY  TRANSLATED  BY  LORD  ELDON. 

t  The  man  who  keeps  a  conscience  pure, 
(If  not  his  own,  at  least  his  Prince's,) 
Through  toil  and  danger  walks  secure, 
Looks  big  and  black,  and  never  winces. 

X  No  want  has  he  of  sword  or  dagger, 
Cock'd  hat  or  ringlets  of  Geramb  ; 
Though  Peers  may  laugh,  and  Papists  swagger, 
He  doesn't  care  one  single  damn. 

Wliether  midst  Irish  chairmen  going, 
Or  through  St.  Giles's  alleys  dim, 

Incomtam  LactenEe 
More  comam  religata  uodo. 
Integer  vitte  scelerisque  purus. 
Non  eget  JIauri  jaculis,  neque  arcu, 
Nee  venenatis  gravida  sagittis, 

Fusee,  pharetra. 
Sive  per  Syrtes  iter  sestuosas, 
Sive  facturus  per  inhospitalem 
Caucasum,  vel  qua3  loca  fabiilosus- 
Lambit  Hydaspes. 

The  Noble  Translator  had,  at  first,  laid  the  scene  of  these  im- 
VOL.  n.  16 


242  SATIUICAL    AND    HUMOROUS    POEMS. 

'Mid  (Iniiikeii  Slicelahs,  blastinti,  blowing, 
No  matter,  'tis  all  one  to  him. 

For  instance,  I,  one  evening  late, 

Upon  a  gay  vacation  sally, 
Singing  tlie  praise  of  Church  and  State, 

Got  (God  knows  how)  to  Cranbourne  Alley. 

When  lo  !  an  Irish  Papist  darted 

Across  my  path,  gaunt,  grim,  and  big  — 


agined  dangers  of  his  Man  of  Conscience  among  the  Papists  of 
Spain,  and  had  thinslated  the  words  "quae  \oca  faiulosus  lambit 
Hydaspes"  thus  —  The  fabling  Spaniard  licks  the  fVench;" 
but,  recollecting  that  it  is  our  interest  just  now  to  be  respectful 
to  Spanish  Catholics  (though  there  is  certain]}'  no  earthly  reason 
for  our  being  even  commonly  civil  to  Irish  ones),  he  altered  tho 
passage  as  it  stands  at  present. 

Namque  me  silva  lupus  in  Sabina, 
Dnm  nieam  canto  Lulagen,  et  ultra 
Terminum  curis  vagor  expeditis, 
Fugit  incrmem. 

I  cannot  help  calling  the  reader's  attention  to  the  peculiar  in- 
genuity with  which  these  lines  arc  paraphrased.  Not  to  mention 
the  hnijjiy  conversion  of  the  Wolf  into  a  Papist,  (.seeing  that 
Romulus  was  suckled  by  a  wolf,  that  Rome  was  founded  by 
Romulus,  and  that  the  Pope  has  always  reigned  at  Rome,)  there 
is  something  particularly  neat  in  supposing  "  uftm  terminum" 
to  mean  vacation-time;  and  then  the  modest  consciousness  with 
which  the  Noble  and  Learned  Translator  has  avoided  touchin<^ 
upon  the  words  "curis  expedllls,"  (or,  as  it  has  been  otherwise 
read,  "  causls  expeditis,'')  and  the  felicitous  idea  of  his  being 
"inermis"  when  "without  his  wig,"  are  altogether  the  most 
delectable  specimens  of  paraphrase  in  our  language. 


SATIRICAL    AND    HUMOROUS    POEMS,  243 

I  did  but  frown,  and  off  he  started, 
Scar'd  at  me,  even  without  my  wig. 

*  Yet  a  more  fierce  and  raw-bon'd  dog 
Goes  not  to  Mass  in  Dublin  City, 
Nor  shakes  his  brogue  o'er  Allen's  Bog, 
Nor  spouts  in  Catholic  Committee. 

t  Oh  !  place  me  midst  O'Rourkes,  O'Tooles, 
The  ragged  royal-blood  of  Tara ; 
Or  place  me  where  Dick  Martin  rules 
The  houseless  wilds  of  Connemara ; 

I  Of  Church  and  State  I'll  warble  still. 

Though  ev'n  Dick  Martin's  self  should  grumble ; 
Sweet  Church  and  State,  like  Jack  and  Jill, 
§  So  lovingly  upon  a  hill  — 

Ah !  ne'er  like  Jack  and  Jill  to  tumble  ! 

Quale  portentum  neque  militaris 
Daunias  latis  alit  Eesculetis, 
Nee  Jubse  tellus  general  leonum 

Arida  nutrix. 
Pone  me  pigris  ubi  nulla  campis 
Arbor  asstiva  recreatur  aura : 
Quod  latus  mundi,  nebulae,  malusque 
Jupiter  urget. 
I  must  here  remark,  that  the  said  Dick  Martin  being  a  very 
good  fellow,  it  was  uot  at  all  fair  to  make  a  "  malus  Jupiter"  of 
him. 

Dulce  ridentem  Lalagen  amabo, 
Dulce  loquentem. 
^  There  cannot  be  imagined  a  more  happy  illustration  of  the 


244  SATIRICAL    AND    HUMOROUS    POEMS. 


THE   NEW   COSTUME   OF   THE  MINISTERS. 


-  NoTa  monstra  crcavit. 

Ovid.  Metatnorj>h.  1.  i.  v.  437. 


Having  sent  off  the  troops  of  brave  Major  Caraac, 
With  a  swinging  liorse-tail  at  each  valorous  back, 
And  such  hehnets,  God  bless  us  !  as  never  deck'd  any 
Male  creatui-e  before,  except  Signor  Giovanni  — 
"Let's  see,"  said  the  Regent  (like  Titus,  perplex'd 
With  the  duties  of  empire,)  "whom  shall  I  dress 
next?" 

He  looks  in  the  glass  —  but  perfection  is  there, 
Wig,  whiskers,  and  chin-tufts  all  right  to  a  hair ;  * 

inseparability  of  Church  and  State,  and  their  (what  is  called) 
"standing  and  falling  together,"  than  this  ancient  apologue  of 
Jack  and  Jill.  Jack,  of  course,  represents  the  State  iu  this  in- 
genious little  Allegory. 

Jack  fell  down, 

And  broke  his  Crown, 
And  Jill  came  tumbling  after. 
*  That  model  of  Princes,  the  Emperor  Commodus,  was  par- 
ticularly luxurious  in  the  dressing  and  ornamenting  ef  his  hair. 
His  conscience,  however,  would  not  suffer  him  to  trust  himself 
with  a  barber,  and  he  used,  accordingly,  to  burn  ofl'  his  beard  — 
"timore  tonsoris,"  says  Lampridius.  {Jlist.  Auyust.  Scnj>tor.) 
The  dissolute  JKVms  Verus,  too,  was  equally  attentive  to  the 
decoration  of  his  wig.  (See  Jul.  Capitolin.)  — Indeed,  this  was 
not  the  only  princely  trait  in  the  character  of  Verus,  as  he  had 
likewise  a  most  hearty  and  dignified  contempt  for  his  Wife.  — 
See  his  insulting  answer  to  her  in  Spartianus. 


SATIRICAL    AND    HUMOROUS    POEMS.  245 

Not  a  single  ea;-curl  on  his  forehe?.d  be  traces  — 
For  curls  are  like  Ministers,  strange  as  the  case  is, 
The  falser  they  are,  the  more  firm  in  their  places. 
His  coat  he  next  views — but  the  coat  who  could 

doubt  ? 
For  his   Yarmouth's  own  Frenchified    hand  cut   it 

out ; 
Every  pucker  and  scam  were  made  matters  of  state, 
And  a  Grand  Household  Council  was  held  on  each 

plait. 

Then  whom  shall  he  dress?  shall  he  new-rig  his 

brother, 
Great  Cumberland's  Duke,  with  some  kickshaw  or 

other  ? 
And  kindly  invent  him  more  Christian-like  shapes 
For  his  feather-bed  neckcloths  and  pillory  capes. 
Ah  !  no  —  here  his  ardour  would  meet  with  delays. 
For  the  Duke  had  been  lately  pack'd  up  in   new 

Stays, 
So  complete  for  the  winter,  he  saw  very  plain 
'T  would  be  devilish  hard  work  to  wnpack  him  again. 

So,  what's  to  be  done?  —  there's  the  Ministers, 

bless  'em !  — 
As  he  made  the  puppets,  why  shouldn't  he  dress  'era? 
"  An    excellent    thought !  —  call    the    tailors  —  be 

nimble  — 
"Let  Cum  bring  his  spy-glass,  and  Hertford   her 

thimble ; 


246  SATIRICAL    AND    HUMOROUS    POEMS. 

"  While  Yarmouth  shall  give  us,  in  spite  of  all  quiz- 

zers, 
"  The  last  Paris  cut  with  his  true  Gallic  scissors." 

So  saying,  he  calls  Castlereagh,  and  the  rest 
Of  his  heaven-born  statesmen,  to  come  and  be  drest. 
While  Yarmouth,  with  snip-like  and  brisk  expedi- 
tion, 
Cuts  up,  all  at  once,  a  large  Cath'lic  Petition 
In  long  tailors'  measures,  (the  Prince  crying  "  Well- 
done!  ") 
And  first  js^^s  in  hand  my  Lord  Chancellor  Eldon. 


COKRESPONDENCE   BETWEEN  A  LADY  AND 
GENTLEMAN, 

OPON    THE    ADVANTAGE    OF    (WITAT     IS    CALLED)     "HAVING 
LAW*  ON  one's   side." 

The  Gentleman's  Proposal. 

"  Legge  aurea, 
S'ei  place,  ei  lice." 

Come,  fly  to  these  arms,  nor  let  beauties  so  bloomy 

To  one  frigid  owner  be  tied ; 
Your   prudes  may  revile,  and  your  old  ones   look 
gloomy, 

But,  dearest,  we've  Law  on  our  side. 

*  In  allusion  to  T.ord  Ellonborou^jh. 


SATIRICAL    AND    HUMOROUS    POEMS.  247 

Oh !  think  the  delight  of  two  lovers  congenial, 

Whom  no  dull  decorums  divide ;  [venial, 

Their  error   how   sweet,   and   their   raptures   how 
When  once  they've  got  Law  on  their  side. 

'Tis  a  thing,  that  in  every  King's  reign  has  been 
done,  too : 
Then  why  should  it  now  be  decried  ? 
If  the  Father  has  done  it,  why  shouldn't  the  Son 
too? 
For  so  argues  Law  on  our  side. 

And,  ev'n  should  our  sweet  violation  of  duty 

By  cold-blooded  jurors  be  tried, 
They  can  but  bring  it  in  "  a  misfortune,"  my  beauty, 

As  long  as  we  've  Law  on  our  side. 


The  Lady's  Answer. 

Hold,  hold,  my  good  Sir,  go  a  little  more  slowly ; 

For,  grant  me  so  faithless  a  bride. 
Such  sinners  as  we,  are  a  little  too  loicly,. 

To  hope  to  have  Law  on  our  side. 

Had  you  been  a  great  Prince,  to  whose  star  shining 
o'er  'em 
The  People  should  look  for  their  guide, 
Then  your    Highness   (and  welcome !)  might   kick 
down  decorum  — 
You'd  always  have  Law  on  your  side. 


248  SATIRICAL    AND    HUMOROUS   POEMS. 

Were  yon  ev'ii  au  old  ]\I;irqiiis,  in  mischief  grown 
lioary, 

Whose  heart,  though  it  long  ago  died 
To  the  pleasures  of  vice,  is  alive  to  its  ghry  — 

You  still  would  have  Law  on  your  side. 

But  i'oryou,  Sir,  Crim.  Con.  is  a  path  full  of  troubles ; 

By  mi/  advice  therefore  abide, 
And  leave  the  pursuit  to  those  Princes  and  Nobles 

Wlio  have  such  a  J^ato  on  their  side. 


OCCASIONAL    ADDRESS 

FOR  THE  OPENING  OF  THE  NEW  THEATRE  OF  ST.  STEPHEX, 
INTENDED  TO  HAVE  BEEN  SPOKEN  BY  THE  PROPRIETOR 
IN   FULL   COSTUME,   ON  THE  24TII   OF   NOVEMBER,    1812. 

This  day  a  New  House,  for  your  edification, 
We  open,  most  thinking  and  right-headed  nation  ! 
Excuse  the  materials  —  though  rotten  and  bad, 
They're  the  best  that  for  money  just  now  could  be 

had  ; 
And,  if  eclio  the  charm  of  such  houses  should  be, 
You  will  find  it  shall  echo  my  speech  to  a  T. 

As  for  actors,  we've  got  the  old  Company  yet, 
The  same  motley,  odd,  tragi-comical  set ; 
And  consid'ring  they  all  were  but  clerks  t'other  day. 
It  is  truly  surprising  how  well  they  can  play. 


SATIRICAL    AND    IIL'JIOKOUS    POEMS.  249 

Our  Manager,*  (lie,  who  in  Ulster  was  nurst, 
And  sung  Erin  go  Brah  for  the  galleries  first, 
But,  on  finding  P^'rt-interest  a  much  better  thing, 
Chang'd  his  note  of  a  sudden,  to  God  save  the  King,) 
Still  wise  as  he's  blooming,  and  fat  as  he's  clever, 
Himself  and  his  speeches  as  lengthy  as  ever, 
Here  offers  you  still  the  full  use  of  his  breath, 
Your  devoted  and  long-winded  proser  till  death. 

You  remember  last  season,  when  things  went  per- 
verse on, 
"We  had  to  engage  (as  a  block  to  rehearse  on) 
One  Mr.  Vansittart,  a  good  sort  of  person, 
"Who's  also  employ'd  for  this  season  to  play. 
In  "  Raising  the  Wind,"  and  "  the  Devil  to  Pay."t 
We  expect  too  —  at  least  we've  been  plotting  and 

planning  — 
To  get  that  gi-eat  actor  from  Liverpool,  Canning ; 
And,  as  at  the  Circus  there 's  nothing  attracts 
Like  a  good  single  combat  brought  in  'twixt  the  acts. 
If  the  Manager  should,  with  the  help  of  Sir  Pop- 
ham, 
Get  up  new  diversions,  and  Canning  should  stop  'em. 
Who  knows  but  we  '11  have  to  announce  in  the  papers, 
"Grand  fight — second  time — with  additional  capers." 

Be  your  taste  for  the  ludicrous,  humdrum,  or  sad. 
There  is  plenty  of  each  in  this  House  to  be  had. 

*  Lord  Castlereagh. 

t  He  had  recently  been  appointed  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer. 


250  SATIRICAL    AND    HUMOROUS    POEMS. 

Where  our  Manager  ruleth,  there  weeping  will  be, 
For  a  dead  hand  at  tragedy  always  was  he  ; 
And  there  never  was  dealer  in  dagger  and  cup, 
"Who  so  smilingly  got  all  his  tragedies  up. 
His  powers  poor  Ireland  will  never  forget, 
And  the  widows  of  Walcheren  weep  o'er,  them  yet. 

So  much  for  the  actors  ;  —  for  secret  machinery. 
Traps  and  deceptions,  and  shifting  of  scenery, 
Yarmouth  and  Cum  are  the  best  we  can  find. 
To  transact  all  that  trickery  business  behind. 
The  former's  employ'd  too  to  teach  us  French  jigs, 
Keep  the  whiskers  in  curl,  and  look  after  the  wigs. 

In  taking  my  leave  now,  I've  only  to  say, 
A  few  Seats  in  the  House,  not  as  yet  sold  away. 
May  be  had  of  the  Manager,  Pat  Castlereagh. 


THE  SALE   OF  THE   TOOLS. 

Instrunienta  regni. — Taciics. 

Here  's  a  choice  set  of  Tools  for  you,  Ge'mmen  and 

Ladies, 
They'll  tit  you  quite  handy,  whatever  your  trade  is  ; 
(Except  it  be  Cabinet-making  ;  —  no  doubt, 
In  tliat  delicate  service  they're  rather  worn  out; 
Though  their  owner,  bright  youth!  if  he'd  had  his 

own  will, 
Would  have  bungled  away  witli  them  joyously  still.) 


SATIRICAL    AXD    HUMOKOUS    POEMS.  251 

You  can  see  they've  been  pretty  well  haclSd — and 

alack  ! 
What  tool  is  there  job  after  job  will  not  hack  ? 
Their  edge  is  but  dullish,  it  must  be  confess'd, 
And  their  temper,  Uke  Ellenb'rough's,  none  of  the 

best; 
But  you  '11  find  them  good  hard-working  Tools,  upon 

trying,  [buying ; 

TTer't  but  for  their  brass,  they  are  well  worth  the 
They're   famous   for    making   blinds,    sliders,   and 

screens, 
And  are,  some  of  them,  excellent  turning  machines. 

The  first  Tool  I'll  put  up  (they  call  it  a  Chancellor) 
Heavy  concern  to  both  purchaser  and  seller. 
Though  made  of  pig  iron,  yet  worthy  of  note  'tis, 
'Tis  ready  to  melt  at  a  half  minute's  notice.* 
Who   bids?      Gentle   buyer!  'twill    turn  as   thou 

shapest ; 
'T  will  make  a  good  thumb-screw  to  torture  a  Papist ; 
Or  else  a  cramp-iron,  to  stick  in  the  wall 
Of  some  church  that  old  women  are  fearful  will  fall ; 
Or  better,  perhaps,  (for  I'm  guessing  at  random.) 
A  heavy  drag-chain  for  some  Lawyer's  old  Tandem. 
Will  nobody  bid  ?     It  is  cheap,  I  am  sure.  Sir  — 
Once,  twice,  —  going,  going,  —  thrice,  gone  !  —  it  is 

yours.  Sir. 
To  pay  ready  money  you  sha'n't  be  distrest, 
As  a  bill  at  long  date  suits  the  Chancellor  best. 

*  An  allusion  to  Lord  Eldon's  lachrymose  tendencies. 


252  SATIRICAL    AND    HUMOllOUS    POEMS. 

Come,  Where's  the  next  Tool?  —  Oh!  'tis  here  in  a 

trice  — 
This  implement,  Ge'mmen,  at  first  was  a  Vice  ; 
(A  teiKicious  and  close  sort  of  tool,  that  will  let 
Notliing  out  of  its  grasp  it  once  happens  to  get ;) 
But  it  since  has  received  a  new  coating  of  Tin, 
Bright  enough  for  a  Prince  to  behold  himself  in. 
Come,  what  shall  we  say  for  it?  briskly  !  bid  on, 
We'll  the  sooner  get  rid  of  it  —  going  —  quite  gone. 
God  be  with  it,  such  tools,  if  not  quickly  knock'd 

down. 
Might  at  last  cost  their  o^vncr  —  how  much  ?  why,  a 

Crown  ! 

The  next  Tool  I'll  set  up  has  hardly  had  handsel  or 
Trial  as  yet,  and  is  also  a  Ciiancellor  — 
Such  dull  things  as  these  should  be  sold  by  the  gross  ; 
Yet,  dull  as  it  is,  't  will  be  found  to  shave  close, 
And  like  other  close  shavGrs,  some  courage  to  gather, 
This  blade  first  began  by  a  flourish  on  leather.* 
You  shall  have  it  for  nothing  —  then,  marvel  with 

me 
At  the  terrible  tinkering  woi-k  there  must  be. 
Where  a  Tool  such   as   this  is  (I'll  leave  you  to 

judge  it) 
Is  placed  by  ill  luck  at  the  top  of  the  Budget ! 

*  "  Of  the  taxes  proposed  by  Mr.  Vansittart,  that  principally 
opposed  in  Parliament  was  the  additional  duty  on  leather." 
Ann.  Eegister. 


SATIUICAL    AND    HUilOKOUS    POEJIS.  253 


LITTLE  MAN  AXD  LITTLE   SOUL. 

A   BALLAD. 

To  lilt  tune  of'''-  There  icasa  little  man,  and  he  icoo'd  a  Utile  maid." 

DEDICATED  TO  THE  RT.  HON.  CHARLES  ABBOT. 

Arcades  ambo 
£t  cant-are  pares. 

1S13. 

There  was  a  little  Man,  and  he  had  a  little  Soul, 
And  he  said,  "  Little  Soul,  let  us  try,  try,  try, 
"  "Wliether  it's  within  our  reach 
"  To  make  up  a  little  Speech, 
"Just  between  little  you  and  little  I,  T,  I, 
"  Just  between  little  you  and  little  I !  "  — 

Then  said  his  little  Soul, 

Peeping  from  her  httle'  hole, 
"  I  protest,  little  Man,  you  are  stout,  stout,  stout, 

"  But,  if  it's  not  uncivil, 

''  Pray  tell  me  Avhat  the  devil 
"  Must  our  little,  little  speech  be  about,  bout,  bout, 
"  Must  our  little,  little  speech  be  about  ?  " 

The  little  Man  look'd  big, 
With  th'  assistance  of  his  Avigr, 
And  he  call'd  his  little  Soul  to  order,  order,  order, 


254  SATIRICAL    AND    nUMOROUS    POEMS. 

Till  she  fear'd  he  'd  make  her  jog  in 
To  goal,  like  Thomas  Ci'oggan, 
(As  she  wasn't  Duke  or  Earl)  to  reward  her,  ward 
her,  ward  her. 
As  she  wasn't  Duke  or  Iilarl,  to  reward  her. 

The  little  Man  then  spoke, 
"  Little  soul,  it  is  no  joke, 
"  For  as  sure  as  Jacky  Fuller  loves  a  sup,  sup, 
sup, 
'"  I  will  toll  the  Prince  and  People 
"What  I  think  of  Church  and  Steeple, 
"  And  my  little  patent  plan  to  prop  them  up,  up, 
up, 
"  And  my  little  patent  plan  to  prop  them  up." 

Away  then,  cheek  by  jowl, 
Little  Man  and  little  Soul 
Went  and  spoke  their  little  speech  to  a  tittle,  tittle, 
tittle. 
And  the  world  all  declare 
That  this  priggish  little  pair 
Never  yet  in  all   their  hves  look'd  so  little,  little, 
little. 
Never  yet  in  all  their  lives  look'd  so  little ! 


SATIRICAL    AND    HUMOROUS    POEJIS.  255 


EEIXFORCEMENTS  FOR  LORD  WT:LLINGT0N. 

Suosque  tibi  commendat  Troja  Penutes 
Hos  cape  fatorum  comites.  Virgil. 

1813. 

As  recruits  in  these  times  are  not  easily  got, 

And   the    Marshal    must    have    them  —  pray,   why 

should  we  not,  [him, 

As  the  last  and,  I  grant  it,  the  worst  of  our  loans  to 
Ship  off  the  Ministry,  body  and  bones  to  him  ? 
There's  not  in  all  England,  I'd  venture  to  swear, 
Any  men  we  could  half  so  conveniently  spare  ; 
And,  though  they've  been  helping  the  French  for 

years  past. 
We  may  thus  make  them  useful  to  England  at  last. 
Castlereagh  in  our  sieges  might  save  some  disgraces, 
Being  us'd  to  the  taking  and  keeping  o^ places  ; 
And  Volunteer  Canning,  still  ready  for  joining, 
IMight  show  off  his  talent  for  sly  undermining. 
Could  the  Household  but  spare  us  its  glory  and  pride, 
Old  Headfort  at  horn-works  again  might  be  tried. 
And  the  Chief  Justice  makes  a  hold  charge  at  his 

side: 
"While  Vansittart  could  victual  the  troops  upon  tick, 
And  the  Doctor  look  after  the  baggage  and  sick. 

Nay,  I  do  not  see  why  the  great  Regent  himself 
Should,  in  times  such  as  these,  stay  at  home  on  the 
shelf: 


2oG       SATiracAL  and  humorous  poems. 

Though  through   narrow  defiles  he's   not  fitted  to 

pass, 
Yet  wlio  could  resist,  if  he  bore  down  en  masse  ? 
And  though  oft,  of  an  evening,  perhaps  he  might 

prove, 
Like  our  Spanish  confed'rates,  "  unable  to  move,"  * 
Yet  there's  one  thing  in  war  of  advantage  unbounded, 
AVhich  is,  that  he  could  not  with  ease  be  surrounded. 

In  my  next  I  shall  sing  of  their  arms  and  equip- 
ment ;  [ment ! 
At  present  no  more,  but  —  good  luck  to  the  ship- 


IIOllACE,   ODE  I.   LIB.   III. 

A  FRAGMENT. 

Odi  profanum  yulgus  et  arceo ; 
Faveto  linguis  :  camiina  non  prius 
Aiiilita  JIusarum  saccrdos 
Virginibus  puerisquc  canto. 
Rcgum  timendoiTim  in  proprios  grcges, 
Reges  in  ipsos  injperiuni  est  Joris. 

1813. 

I  HATE  thee,  oh  Mob,  as  my  Lady  hates  delf ; 

To   Sir   Francis  I'll  give  up  thy  claps  and   thy 
hisses. 
Leave  old  INIagna  Charta  to  shift  for  itself, 

And,  like  Godwin,  write  books  for  young  masters 
and  misses. 

»  The  character  given  to  the  Spanish  soldier,  in  Sir  John 
Murray's  memorable  despatch. 


SATIRICAL    AND    HUMOROUS    POEMS.  257 

Oh !  it  is  not  high  rank  that  can  make  the  heart 
merry, 
Even  monarchs  themselves  are  not  free  from  mis- 
hap : 
Though  the  Lords  of  WestphaHa  must  quake  before 
Jerry, 
Poor  Jerry  himself  has  to  quake  before  Nap. 


HORACE,   ODE  XXXVIII.  LIB.  I. 

A  FRAGMENT. 

Persicos  odi,  puer,  adparatus  ; 
Displicent  nexae  philyra  coronae ; 
Mitte  sectari,  Rosa  gjto  locontm 
Sera  inoTetur. 

TKAXSLATED   BY  A   TREASURY     CLERK,   WHILE   WAITING   DIN- 
NER FOR  THE   RIGHT  HON.    GEORGE   ROSE. 

BoT,  tell  the  Cook  that  I  hate  all  knick-knackeries, 
Fricassees,  vol-au-vents,  puffs,  and  gim-crackeries  — 
Six  by  the  Horse-Guards !  —  old  Georgy  is  late  — 
But  come  —  lay  the  table  cloth  —  zounds  ! — do  not 

wait. 
Nor  stop  to  inquire,  while  the  dinner  is  staying. 
At  which  of  his  places  Old  Rose  is  delaying ! 


The  literal  closeness  of  the  version  here  cannot  but  be  ad- 
mired.   The  Translator  has  added  a  long,  erudite,  and  flowery 
note  upon  Roses,  of  which  I  can  merely  give  a  specimen  at  pres- 
VOL.  II.  17 


258  SATIRICAL    AND    IIUMOUOUS    POEMS. 


IMPROMPTU. 

UPON  BEING  OBLIGED  TO  LEAVE  A  PLEASANT  PARTY,  FROM 
THE  WANT  OF  A  PAIR  OF  BREECHES  TO  DRESS  FOR  DIN- 
NER  IX. 

1810. 

Between  Adam  and  me  the  great  difference  is, 
Though  a  paradise  each  has  been  forc'd  to  resign, 

That  he  never  wore  breeches,  till  turn'd  out  of  his, 
"Wliile,  for  Avant  of  my  breeclies,  1  'm  banish'd  from 
mine. 

ent.  Ill  the  first  place,  lie  ransacks  the  Eoscmum  Politicum  of 
the  Persian  poet  Sadi,  with  the  hope  of  fiiuliiig  some  rolilical 
Roses,  to  match  the  gentleman  in  the  text  —  but  in  vain:  lie 
then  tells  us  that  Cicero  accused  Verres  of  reposing  upon  a 
cushion  "  Melitensi  rom  yartum,^'  ■which,  from  the  odd  mixture 
of  words,  he  supposes  to  be  a  kind  of  Irish  Bed  of  Roses,  like 
Lord  Castlereagh's.  The  learned  Clerk  next  favours  us  with 
some  remarks  upon  a  well-known  punning  epita])li  on  fair 
Eosamond,  and  expresses  a  most  loyal  hope,  that,  if  "  I>osa 
munda"  mean  "a  Rose  with  clean  hands"  it  may  be  found  ap- 
plicable to  the  Right  Honourable  Rose  in  question.  He  then 
dwells  at  some  length  upon  the  "Rosa  aiirea,''  which,  though 
descriptive,  in  one  sense,  of  the  old  Treasury  Statesman,  yet,  as 
being  consecrated  and  worn  by  the  Pope,  must,  of  course,  not 
be  brought  into  the  same  atmosphere  with  him.  Lastly,  in  ref- 
erence to  the  words  "  old  Rose,"  he  winds  up  with  the  pathetic 
lamentation  of  the  Poet  "  consenuisse  Rosas."  The  whole  note 
indeed  shows  a  knowledge  of  Roses,  that  is  quite  edifying. 


SATIRICAL   AND    HUMOROUS   POEMS.         259 


LORD   WELLINGTON  AND   THE  MINISTERS. 

1813. 

So  gently  in  peace  Alcibiades  smil'd, 

While  in  battle  he  shone  forth  so  terribly  grand, 
That  the  emblem  they  grav'd  on  his  seal,  was  a  child 

With  a  thunderbolt  plac'd  in  its  innocent  hand. 

Oh  Wellington,  long  as  such  Ministers  wield 

Your  magnificent  arm,  the  same  emblem  will  do ; 

For  Avhile  they've  in  the  Council  and  you  in  the  Field, 
We  've  the  babies  in  them,  and  the  thunder  in  you  ! 


POLITICAL  AND  SATIRICAL  POEMS. 


POLITICAL  AND   SATIRICAL   POEMS. 


LINES   ON   THE  DEATH  OF  MR.   PERCEVAL. 

In  the  dirge  we  sung  o'er  him  no  censure  was  heard, 
Unembitter'd  and  free  did  the  tear-drop  descend ; 

We  forgot,  in  that  hour,  how  the  statesman  had  err'd, 
And  Avept  for  the  husband,  the  father,  and  friend. 

Oh,  proud  was  the  meed  his  integrity  won. 

And  gen'rous  indeed  were  the  tears  that  we  shed, 

When,  in  grief,  we  forgot  all  the  ill  he  had  done. 
And,  though  wrong'd  by  him,  living,  bewail'd  him, 
when  dead. 

Even  now,  if  one  harsher  emotion  intrude, 
'Tis  to  wish  he  had  chosen  some  lowlier  state, 

Had  known  Avhat  he  was  —  and,  content  to  be  good. 
Had  ne'er,  for  our  ruin,  aspii*ed  to  be  great. 

So,  left  through  their  own  little  orbit  to  move, 
His  years  might  have  roll'd  inoffensive  away ; 

His  children  might  still  have  been  bless'd  with  his 

love,  [his  sway. 

And  England  would  ne'er  have  been  cux-sed  with 


264  POLITICAL    AND    SATIRICAL    POKMS. 


To  tlie  Editor  of  the  Morning  Chronicle. 

In  order  to  explain  the  following  Fragment,  it  is 
necessary  to  refer  your  readers  to  a  late  tlorid  <le- 
scription  of  the  Pavilion  at  Brighton,  in  the  apart- 
ments of  which,  we  are  told,  "  Fuji,  The  Chinese 
Bird  of  Royalty,"  is  a  principal  ornament, 

I  am,  Sir,  yours,  etc. 


FUM  AND  HUM,  THE  TWO  BIRDS  OF  ROYALTY. 

One  day  the  Chinese  Bird  of  Royalty,  FuM. 
Thus  accosted  our  own  Bird  of  Royalty,  IIu.ai, 
In  that  Palace  or  China-shop  (Brighton,  which  is  it?) 
Where  Fuji  had  just  come  to  pay  Hum  a  short 

visit.  —  , 

Near  akin  are  these   Birds,  though   they  differ  in 

nation 
(The  breed  of  the  Hums  is  as  old  as  creation) ; 
Both,  fuU-craw'd  Legitimates  —  both,  birds  of  prey, 
Both,  cackling  and  ravenous  creatures,  half  way 
'Twixt  the  goose  and  the  vultui-e,  like  Lord  Castle- 

REAGH, 

While  FuM  deals  in  Mandarins,  Bonzes,  Bohea, 
Peers,  Bishops,  and  Punch,  Hum,  are  sacred  to  thee ! 


POLITICAL    AND    SATIRICAL    POEMS.  265 

So  congenial  their  tastes,  that,  when  Fuji  first  did 

hght  on 
The  floor  of  that  grand  China- warehouse  at  Brighton, 
The  lanterns,  and  dragons,  and  things    round  the 

dome 
Were  so  hke  what  he  left,  "Gad,"  saj^s  Fuii,  "I'm 

at  home."  — 
And  when,  turning,  he  saw  Bishop  L ge,  "Zooks, 

it  is," 
Quoth  the  Bird,  "  Yes  —  I  know  him  —  a  Bonze,  by 

his  phyz  — 
"  And  that  jollj  old  idol  he  kneels  to  so  low 
"  Can  be  none  but  our  round-about  godhead,  fat  Fo  !" 
It  chanced  at  this  moment,  th'  Episcopal  Prig 
Was  imploring  the  Prixce  to  dispense  with  his  wig,* 
Which  the  Bird,  overhearing,  flew  high  o'er  his  head, 
And  some  ToBiT-like  marks  of  his  patronage  shed, 
Which  so  dimm'd  the  poor  Dandy's  idolatrous  eye. 
That,  while  Fum  cried  "  Oh  Fo !  "  all  the  court  cried 

"  Oh  fie ! " 

But,  a  truce  to  digression  ;  —  these  Birds  of  a  feather 
Thus  talk'd,  t'other  night,  on  State  matters  together; 
(The  Prince  just  in  bed,  or  about  to  depart  for 't, 
His  legs  full  of  gout,  and  his  arms  full  of  Hertford,) 
"  I  say,  Hum,"  says  Fum  —  Fum,  of  course,  spoke 
Chinese, 

*  In  consequence  of  an  old  promise,  that  he  should  be  allowed 
to  wear  his  own  hair,  whenever  he  might  be  elevated  to  a  Bish- 
opric by  his  Royal  Highness. 


266  rOI-lTICAL    AXD    SATIRICAL    POEMS. 

But,  bless  you,  that's  nothing  —  at  Brighton  one  sees 
Forcif'u  hngocs  and  Bishoi)s  translated  with  ease  — 
"  I  say,  Hum,  how  fares  it  with  Royalty  now  ? 
"  Is  it  up  ?  is  it  prime  ?  is  it  spooney  —  or  how  ?  " 
(The  Bird  had  just  taken  a  flash-man's  degree 
Under  Barrymore,  Yarmouth,  and  young  Master 

L E) 

«  As  for  us  in  Pekin" here,  a  dev'l  of  a  dm 

From  the  bed-chamber  came,  where  that  long  Man- 
darin, 
Castlereagh    (whom    FuM    calls   the    Confuslus   of 

Prose), 
Was  rehearsing  a  speech  upon  Europe's  repose 
To  the  deep,  double  bass  of  the  fat  Idol's  nose. 

{Nota  bene  —  his  Lordship  and  LiVKRrooL  come, 
In  collateral  lines,  from  the  old  Mother  Hum, 
Castlereagh  a  IIuM-bug  —  Liverpool  a  Hum- 

drum.) 
The  Speech  being  finish'd,  out  rush'd  Castlereagh, 
Saddled  Hum  in  a  hurry,  and,  whip,  spur,  away. 
Through  the  regions  of  air,  like  a  Snip  on  his  hobby, 
Ne'er  paused,  till  he  lighted  in  St.  Stephen's  lobby. 


POLITICAL    AND    SATIRICAL    POEMS.  267 

LIXES   ON  THE   DEATH   OF   SHERIDAN. 
Principibus  placuisse  yiris  I  —  Horat. 

Yes,  grief  will  have  way  —  but  the  fast  falling  tear 
Shall  be  mingled  with  deep  execrations  on  those, 

Who  could  bask  in  that  Spirit's  meridian  career, 
And   jet   leave  it  thus  lonely  and    dark  at   its 
close :  — 

Whose  vanity  flew  round  him,  only  while  fed 

By  the  odour  his  fame  in  its  summer-time  gave ;  — 

Whose  vanity  now,  with  quick  scent  for  the  dead, 
Like  the  Ghole  of  the  East,  comes  to  feed  at  his 
grave. 

Oh !  it  sickens  the  heart  to  see  bosoms  so  hollow, 
And  spirits  so  mean  in  the  great  and  high-born ; 

To  think  what  a  long  line  of  titles  may  follow 

The  relics  of  him  who  died  —  friendless  and  lorn  ! 

How  proud  they  can  press  to  the  fun'ral  array 
Of  one,  whom  they  shunn'd  in  his  sickness  and 
sorrow :  — 

How  baliffs  may  seize  his  last  blanket,  to-day, 

Whose  paU  shall  be  held  up  by  nobles  to-morrow ! 

And  Thou,  too,  whose  life,  a  sick  epicure's  dream. 
Incoherent  and  gross,  even  grosser  had  pass'd, 


268  POLITICAL    AND    SATIRICAL    POEMS. 

"Were  it  not  for  that  cordial  and  soul-giving  beam, 
Which  his  friendship  and  wit  o'er  thy  nothingness 
cast : — 

No,  not  for  the  wealth  of  the  land,  that  supplies  thee 
With  millions  to  heap  upon  Foppery's  shrine;  — 

No,  not  for  the  riches  of  all  who  despise  thee, 

TIio'  this  would  make  Europe's  whole  opulence 
mine ;  — 

Would   I   suffer  what  —  ev'n  in  the  heart  that  thou 

hast  — 

All  mean  as  it  is  —  must  have  consciously  burn'd, 

When  the  pittance,  which  shame  had  wrung  from 

thee  at  last,  [return'd  !  * 

And  which  found  all  his  wants  at  an  end,  was 

"Was  this  then  the  fate,"  —  future  ages  will  say. 
When  some  names  shall  live  but  in  history's  cuz-se; 

When  Truth  will  be  heard,  and  these  Lords  of  a  day 
Be  forgotten  as  fools,  or  remember'd  as  worse  ;  — 

"  Was  this  then  the  fate  of  that  high-gifted  man, 
"  The  pride  of  the  palace,  the  bower  and  the  hall, 

"  The  orator,  —  dramatist,  —  minstrel,  —  who  ran 
"  Througli  each  mode  of  the  lyre,  and  was  master 
of  all;  — 

*  The  sum  was  two  hundred  pounds  —  offered  y;\\cn  Sheridan 
could  no  longer  take  any  sustenance,  and  declined,  for  him,  by 
his  friends. 


POLITICAL    AND    SATIRICAL    POEMS.  269 

« "Whose  mind  was  an  essence,  compounded  with  art 
"From   the  finest  and   best  of  all  other  men's 
powei'S ;  — 
"  Who  ruled,  like  a  wizard,  the  world  of  the  heart, 
"  And  could  call  up  its  sunshine,  or  biing  down 
its  showers ;  — 

"  "Whose  humour,  as  gay  as  the  fire-fly's  light, 

"Play'd   round   every  subject,   and  shone    as  it 
play'd ;  — 

"  "Whose  wit,  in  the  combat,  as  gentle  as  bright, 
"  Ne'er  carried  a  heart-stain  away  on  its  blade ;  — 

"Whose  eloquence  —  bright'ning  whatever  it  tried, 
"  Whether  reason  or  fancy,  the  gay  or  the  grave, — 

"  Was  as  rapid,  as  deep,  and  as  brilliant  a  tide, 
"  As  ever  bore  Freedom  aloft  on  its  wave  ! " 

Yes  —  such  was  the  man,  and  so  wretched  his  fate ; — 
And  thus,  sooner  or  later,  shall  all  have  to  grieve, 

Who  waste  their  morn's  dew  in  the  beams  of  the 
Great, 
And  expect  't  will  return  to  refresh  them  at  eve. 

In  the  woods  of  the  North  there  are  insects  that  prey 
On  the  brain  of  the  elk  till  his  very  last  sigh ;  * 

Oh,  Genius !  thy  patrons,  more  cruel  than  they. 
First  feed  on  thy  brains,  and  then  leave  thee  to  die  1 

*  Naturalists  have  observed  that,  upon  dissecting  an  elk,  there 
Tvas  found  in  its  head  some  large  flies,  with  its  brain  almost 
eaten  away  by  them.  —  History  of  Poland. 


270  POLITICAL    AND    SATIRICAL    POEMS. 

EPISTLE  FROM  TOM  CRIB  TO  BIG  BEN* 

COSCERXIXG    SOJIE    FOUL    PLAY     IN    A    LATE    TKAXSACTION.t 

"  Ahi,  mio  Ben  ;  "— Metasta8I04 

"What  !  Bex,  my  old  hero,  is  this  your  renown  ? 
Is  this  the  new  yo  ?  —  kick  a  man  wlien  he's  down  ! 
When  the  foe  has  knock'd  under,  to  tread  on  him 

then  — 
By  the  fist  of  my  father,  I  bUish  for  thee,  Bex  ! 
"  Foul !  foul !  "  all  the  lads  of  the  Fancy  exclaim  — 
Charley    Shock   is   electrified  —  Belcher  spits 

flame  — 
And  MoLYNEUX — ay,  even  Bl acky§  cries  "  shame !" 

Time  was,  when  John  Bull  little  difference  spied 
'Twixt  the  foe  at  his  feet,  and  the  friend  at  his  side : 
When  he  found  (such  his  humour  in  figliting  and 

eating) 
His  foe,  like  his  beef-steak,  the  sweeter  for  beating. 
But  this  comes.  Master  Ben,  of  your  curst  foreign 

notions,  [lotions ; 

Your  trinkets,  wigs,  thingumbobs,  gold  lace  and 
Your  Noyaus,  Cura(;oas,  and  the  Devil  knows  what — 
(One  swig  of  Blue  Ruin  ||  is  worth  the  whole  lot !) 

*  A  nickname  given,  at  this  time,  to  the  Prince  Itegent. 

t  Written  soon  after  Bonaparte's  transportation  to  St.  Helena. 

X  Tom,  I  suppose,  was  "  assisted  "  to  this  Motto  by  Mr.  Jack- 
son, who,  it  is  well-  known,  keeps  the  most  learned  cornpany 
going. 

§  Names  and  nicknames  of  celebrated  pugilists  at  that  time. 

II  Gin. 


POLITICAL    AND    SATIRICAL    POEMS.  271 

Your  great  and  small  crosses  —  (my  eyes,  what  a 

brood ! 
A  cross-buttock  from  me  would  do   some  of  them 

good !) 
Which  have  spoilt  you,  till  hardly  a  drop,  my  old 

porpoise, 
Of  pure  English  claret  is  left  in  your  corpus  ; 
And  (as  Jim  says)  the  only  one  trick,  good  or  bad, 
Of  the  Fancy  you're  up  to,  \s  fibbing,  my  lad. 
Hence  it  comes, — Boxiaxa,  disgrace  to  thy  page !  — 
Having  floor 'd,  by  good  luck,  the  first  stcell  of  the  age, 
Having  conquer'd  the  prime  one,  that  milVd  us  all 

round. 
You  kick'd  him,  old  Bex,  as  he  gasp'd  on  the  ground! 
Ay — just  at  the  time  to  show  spunk,  if  you'd  got 

any  — 
Kick'd   him,    and  jaw'd   him,    and   lag'd*  liim   to 

Botany ! 
Oh,  shade  of  the  Cheesemonger  !  f  you,  who,  alas, 
Doubled  up,  by  the  dozen,  those  Mounseers  in  brass. 
On  that  great  day  of  milling,  when  blood  lay  in  lakes, 
When  Kings  held  the  bottle,  and  Europe  the  stakes, 
Look  down  upon  Bex  —  see  him,  dunghill  all  o'er, 
Insult  the  fall'n  foe,  that  can  harm  him  no  more  ! 
Out,  cowardly  spooney  /  —  again  and  again, 
By  the  fist  of  my  father,  I  blush  for  thee,  Ben. 
To  show  the  white  feather  is  many  men's  doom. 
But,  what  of  one  feather  ? — Bex  shows  a  whole  Plume. 

*  Transported. 

t  A  Life  Guardsman,  one  of  the  Fancy,  who   distinguished 
himself,  and  was  killed  in  the  memorable  set-to  at  Waterloo. 


THE  FUDGE  FAMILY  IN  PARIS. 


Le  Leggi  dclla  Maschera  richiedono  che  una  persona  masehe- 
rata  non  sia  salutata  per  nome  da  uno  che  la  conosce  inalgrado 
il  suo  traTestimento.  Castiglione. 


VOL.  II.  18 


THE  FUDGE  FAMILY  IN  PARIS. 


The  success,  ftir  exceeding  my  hopes  and  deserts, 
with  which  Lalla  Rookh  was  immediately  crowned, 
relieved  me  at  once  from  the  anxious  feeling  of 
responsibility  under  which  that  enterprise  had  been 
commenced,  and  which  continued  for  some  time  to 
haunt  me  amidst  all  the  enchantments  of  my  task.  I 
was  therefore  in  the  true  holyday  mood,  when  a 
dear  friend,  with  whose  name  is  associated  some  of 
the  brightest  and  pleasantest  hours  of  my  past  life  *, 
kindly  offered  me  a  seat  in  his  carriage  for  a  short 
visit  to  Paris.  This  proposal  I,  of  course,  most 
gladly  accepted;  and,  in  the  autumn  of  the  year 
1817,  found  myself,  for  the  first  time,  in  that  gay 
capital. 

As  the  restoration  of  the  Bourbon  dynasty  was 
still  of  too  recent  a  date  for  any  amalgamation  to 
have  yet  taken  place  between  the  new  and  ancient 
order  of  things,  all  the  most  prominent  features  of 
both  regimes  were  just  then  brought,  in  their  fullest 
relief,  into  juxtaposition  ;  and,  accordingly,  the  re- 

*  Mr.  Rogers. 


276  THE    I'UDGK    FAMILY    IX    PAIilS. 

suit  was  such  as  to  suggest  to  an  unconcerned  spec- 
tator quite  as  abundant  matter  for  ridicule  as  for 
grave  political  consideration.  It  would  be  difficult, 
indeed,  to  convey  to  those  who  had  not  themselves 
seen  the  Paris  of  that  period,  any  clear  notion  of 
the  anomalous  aspect,  both  social  and  political,  which 
it  then  presented.  It  was  as  if,  in  the  days  succeed- 
ing the  Deluge,  a  small  coterie  of  antediluvians  had 
been  suddenly  evoked  from  out  of  the  deep  to  take 
the  cbmmand  of  a  new  and  freshly  starting  world. 

To  me,  the  abundant  amusement  and  interest 
which  such  a  scene  could  not  but  ail^'ord  was  a  good 
deal  heightened  by  my  having,  in  my  youthful  days, 
been  made  acquainted  with  some  of  those  personages 
who  were  now  most  interested  in  the  future  success 
of  the  Legitimate  cause.  The  Comte  D'Artois,  or 
INIonsieur,  I  had  met  in  the  year  1802-3,  at  Don- 
ington  Park,  the  seat  of  the  Earl  of  Moira,  under 
whose  princely  roof  I  used  often  and  long,  in  those 
days,  to  find  a  most  hospitable  home.  A  small 
party  of  distinguished  French  emigrants  were  al- 
ready staying  on  a  visit  in  the  house  when  Monsieur 
and  his  suite  arrived ;  and  among  those  were  the 
present  King  of  France  and  his  two  brothers,  the 
Due  de  Montpensier,  and  the  Comte  de  Beaujolais. 

Some  doubt  and  uneasiness  had,  I  remember, 
been  felt  by  the  two  latter  brothers,  as  to  tlie  recep- 
tion they  were  likely  to  encounter  from  the  new 
guest ;  and  as,  in  those  times,  a  cropped  and  un- 
powdered  head  was  regarded  generally  as  a  symbol 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY   IX    PARIS.  277 

of  Jacobinism,  the  Corate  Beaujolais,  who,  like  many 
other  young  men,  wore  his  hair  in  this  fashion, 
thought  it,  on  the  present  occasion,  most  prudent,  in 
order  to  avoid  all  risk  of  ofience,  not  only  to  put 
powder  in  his  hair,  but  also  to  provide  himself  with 
an  artificial  queue.  This  measure  of  precaution, 
however,  led  to  a  slight  incident  after  dinner,  which, 
though  not  very  royal  or  dignified,  was  at  least 
creditable  to  the  social  good-humour  of  the  future 
Charles  X.  On  the  departure  of  the  ladies  from 
the  dining-room,  we  had  hardly  seated  ourselves  in 
the  old-fashioned  style,  round  the  fire,  Avhen  Mon- 
sieur, who  had  happened  to  place  himself  next  to 
Beaujolais,  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  ascititious  tail, — 
which,  having  been  rather  carelessly  put  on,  had  a 
good  deal  straggled  out  of  its  place.  With  a  sort  of 
scream  of  jocular  pleasure,  as  if  delighted  at  the 
discovery,  Monsieur  seized  the  stray  appendage, 
and,  bringing  it  round  into  full  view,  to  the  great 
amusement  of  the  wliole  company,  popped  it  into 
poor  grinning  Beaujolais'  mouth. 

On  one  of  the  evenings  of  this  shori  visit  of  Mon- 
sieur, I  remember  Curran  arriving  unexpectedly,  on 
his  way  to  London  ;  and,  having  come  too  late  for 
dinner,  he  joined  our  party  in  the  evening.  As  the 
foreign  portion  of  the  company  was  then  quite  new 
to  him,  I  was  able  to  be  useful,  by  informing  him  of 
the  names,  rank,  and  other  particulars  of  the  party 
he  found  assembled,  from  Monsieur  himself  down  to 
the   old  Due  de   Lorge   and  the   Baron   de   Rolle. 


278  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    I'AIJIS. 

"When  I  hat!  gone  througli  the  whole  list,  "  Ah,  poor 
fellows!"  he  cxclaiincHl,  with  a  mixture  of  fun  and 
pathos  in  his  look,  truly  Irish,  "  Poor  I'ellows,  all  dis- 
nioiuitcd  cavalry  ! " 

On  the  last  evening  of  Monsieur's  stay,  I  was  made 
to  sing  for  him,  among  other  songs,  "  Farewell 
Bessy  !  "  one  of  my  earliest  attempts  at  musical  com- 
position. As  soon  as  I  had  finished,  he  paid  me  the 
conii)liinent  of  reading  aloud  the  wofds  as  written 
under  the  music  ;  and  most  royal  havoc  did  he  make, 
as  to  this  day  I  remember,  of  whatever  little  sense  or 
metre  they  could  boast. 

Among  my  earlier  poetic  wi'itings,  more  than  one 
grateful  memorial  may  be  found  of  the  happy  days  I 
passed  in  this  hospitable  mansion  — 

Of  all  my  sunny  morns  and  moonlight  nights 
On  Doningtou's  green  lawns  and  breezy  heights. 

But  neither  verse  nor  prose  could  do  any  justice  to 
the  sort  of  impression  I  still  retain  of  those  long-van- 
ished days.  The  library  at  Donington  was  exten- 
sive and  valuable  ;  and  through  the  jjrivilege  kindly 
granted  to  me  of  retiring  tliither  tor  study,  even  when 
the  family  were  absent,  I  frequently  passed  whole 
weeks  alone  in  that  tine  library,  indulging  in  all  the 
first  airy  eastle-building  of  authorship.  The  various 
projects,  indeed,  of  future  works  that  used  then  to 
pass  in  fruitless  succession  through  my  mind,  can  be 
compared  only  to  the  waves  as  described  by  the 
poet,  — 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PAKI3.  279 

"And  one  no  sooner  touch'd  the  shore,  and  died, 
Than  a  new  follower  rose." 

With  that  library  is  also  connected  another  of  my 
earlier  poems,  —  the  verses  addressed  to  the  Duke 
of  Montpensier  on  his  portrait  of  the  Lady  Adelaide 
Forbes  ;  for  it  was  there  that  this  truly  noble  lady, 
then  in  the  first  dawn  of  her  beauty,  used  to  sit  for 
that  picture ;  while,  in  another  part  of  tlie  library, 
the  Duke  of  Orleans,  —  engaged  generally  at  that 
time  with  a  volume  of  Clarendon, —  was  by  such 
studies  unconsciously  preparing  himself  for  the  high 
and  arduous  destiny,  which  not  only  the  Good  Genius 
of  France,  but  his  own  sagacious  and  intrepid  spirit, 
had  marked  out  for  him. 

I  need  hardly  say  how  totally  different  were  all 
the  circumstances  under  which  Monsieur  himself  and 
some  of  his  followers  were  again  seen  by  me  in  the 
year  1817  ;  —  the  same  actors,  indeed,  but  with  an 
entirely  new  change  of  scenery  and  decorations. 
Amongthe  variety  of  aspects  presented  by  this  change, 
the  ridiculous  certainly  predominated  ;  nor  could  a 
satirist  who,  like  Philoctetes,  was  smitten  with  a 
fancy  for  shooting  at  geese,*  ask  any  better  supply 
of  such  game  than  the  high  places,  in  France,  at  that 
period,  both  lay  and  ecclesiastical,  afforded.  As  I 
was  not  versed,  however,  sufficiently  in  French  poli- 
tics to  venture  to  meddle  with  them,  even  in  sport,  I 
found  a  more  ready  conductor  of  laughter — for  which 

*  "  Pinnigero,  non  amiigero  in  corpore  tela  exerceantur:  "  — 
the  words  put  by  Accius  in  the  mouth  of  Philoctetes. 


280  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS. 

I  was  then  much  in  the  mood  —  in  those  groups  of 
ridiculous  Enghsh  who  were  at  that  time  swarming 
in  all  directions  throughout  Paris,  and  of  all  whose 
various  forms  of  cocknejism  and  nonsense  I  endeav- 
oured, in  the  personages  of  the.  Fudge  Family,  to  col- 
lect the  concentrated  essence.  The  result,  as  usual, 
fell  very  far  short  of  what  I  had  myself  preconceived 
and  intended.  But,  making  its  appearance  at  such 
a  crisis,  the  Avork  brought  with  it  that  best  seasoning 
of  all  such  jeHX-cres]}ri(,  the  n-propos  o^  the  moment; 
and,  accordingly,  in  the  race  of  successive  editions, 
Lalla  Rookh  was,  for  some  time,  kept  pace  w-ith  by 
Miss  Biddy  Fudge. 


PREFACE, 


In  Avhat  manner  the  following  Epistles  came  into 
my  hands,  it  is  not  necessaiy  foi'  the  public  to  know. 
It  will  be  seen  by  Mr.  Fudge's  Second  Letter,  that 
he  is  one  of  those  gentlemen  whose  Secret  Services 
in  Ireland,  under  the  mild  ministry  of  my  Lord  Cas- 
TLEREAGH,  have  been  so  amply  and  gratefully  remu- 
nerated. Like  his  friend  and  associate,  Thomas 
Reynolds,  Esq.,  he  had  retired  upon  the  reward  of 
his  honest  industry ;  but  has  lately  been  induced  to 
appear  again  in  active  life,  and  superintend  the  train- 
ing of  that  Delatorian  Cohort,  which  Lord  Sid  mouth, 
in  his  wisdom  and  benevolence,  has  organized. 

AVhether  Mr.  Fudge,  himself,  has  yet  made  any 
discoveries,  does  not  appear  from  the  following  pages. 
But  much  may  be  expected  from  a  person  of  his  zeal 
and  sagacity,  and,  indeed,  to  liim,  Lord  Sidjiouth, 
and  the  Greenland-bound  ships,  the  eyes  of  all  lov- 
ers of  discoveries  are  now  most  anxiously  directed. 

I  regret  much  that  I  have  been  obliged  to  omit 
Mr.  Bob  Fudge's  Third  Letter,  concluding  the 
adventures  of  his  Day  with  the  Dinner,  Opera,  etc., 
etc.;  —  but,  in  consequence  of  some  remarks  upon 
Marinette's  thin  drapery,  which,  it  was  thought,  might 


282  PREFACE. 

give  offence  to  certain  well-meaning  persons,  the 
niaiiiiscript  was  sent  back  to  Paris  for  his  revision, 
and  luul  not  returned  when  the  last  sheet  was  put  to 
press. 

It  will  not,  I  hope,  be  thought  presumptuous,  if  I 
take  this  opportunity  of  complaining  of  a  very  seri- 
ous injustice  I  have  suffered  from  the  public.  Dr. 
King  wrote  a  treatise  to  prove  that  Bentley  "  was 
not  the  author  of  his  own  book,"  and  a  similar  ab- 
surdity has  been  asserted  of  me,  in  almost  all  the  best 
informed  literary  circles.  With  the  name  of  the  real 
author  staring  them  in  the  face,  they  have  yet  per- 
sisted in  attributing  my  works  to  other  people ;  and 
the  fame  of  the  Twopenny  Post  Bag  —  such  as  it  is 

—  having  hovered  doubtfully  over  various  persons, 
has  at  last  settled  upon  the  head  of  a  certain  little 
gentleman,  who  wears  it,  I  understand,  as  compla- 
cently as  if  it  actually  belonged  to  him  ;  without  even 
the  honesty  of  avowing, with  his  own  favourite  author, 
(he  will  excuse  the  pun) 

E)'w  (5'  'O  Mi2P0S  apa^ 

I  can  only  add,  that  if  any  lady  or  gentleman,  cu- 
rious in  such  matters,  will  take  the  trouble  of  calling 
at  ni}'  lodgings,  245  Piccadilly,  I  shall  have  the  hon- 
our of  assuring  them,  in  propria  persona,  that  I  am 

—  his,  or  her. 

Very  obedient 

And  very  humble  Servant, 

'I'ilOMAS   RliOWX,   THE    YOUNGER. 

April  17,  1818. 


THE   FUDGE   FAMILY   IN   PARIS. 


LETTER   I. 

FKOJI   JIISS   BIDDY  FUDGE   TO  MISS   DOROTHY   

KILTY,   IX   IRELAND. 

Amiens. 
Dear  Doll,  while  the  tails  of  our  horses  are  plait- 
ing, 
The  trunks  tying  on,  and  Papa,  at  the  door, 

Into  very  bad  French  is,  as  usual,  translating 
His  English  resolve  not  to  give  a  sou  more, 
I  sit  down  to  write  you  a  line  —  only  think  !  — 
A  letter  from  France,  with  French  pens  and  French 

ink. 
How  delightful !  though,  would  you  believe  it,  my 

dear? 
I  have  seen  nothing  yet  very  wonderful  here  ; 
No  adventure,  no  sentiment,  far  as  we  've  come, 
But  the  corn-fields  and  trees  quite  as  dull  as  at  home  ; 
And  but  for  the  post-boy,  his  boots  and  his  queue, 
I  m\g\\i  just  as  well  be  at  Clonkilty  with  you  ! 
In  vain,  at  Dkssein's,  did  I  take  from  my  trunk 
That  divine  fellow,  Stekne,  and  fall  reading  "  The 

Monk;" 


284  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS. 

In  vain  did  I  tliink  of  his  cliarming  Dead  Ass, 
And  remember  the  eriist  and  tlie  wallet  —  ahts! 
No  monks  can  be  had  now  for  love  or  for  money, 
(All  owing,  Pa  says,  to  that  infidel  Bonev  ;) 
And,  thongli  one  little  Neddy  we  saw  in  our  drive 
Ont  of  elassical  Nainpont,  the  beast  was  alive  ! 

By  the  by,  though,  at  Calais,  Papa  had  a  touch 
Of  romance  on  the  pier,  which  affected  me  much. 
At  the  sight  of  that  spot,  where  our  darling  DixiiuiT 
Set  the  first  of  his  own  dear  legitimate  feet,* 
(Modell'd  out  so  exactly,  and — God  bless  the  mark! 
'Tis  a  foot,  Dolly,  worthy  so  Grand  a  Monarque), 
He  exclaim'd,  "  Oh,  mon  Roi !  "  and,  with  tear-drop- 
ping eye. 
Stood  to  gaze   on  the  spot  — ;  while  some  Jacobin, 

nigh, 
Mutter'd  out  with  a  shrug  (what  an  insolent  tiling !) 
"Ma  fbi,  he  be  right — 'tis  de  Englishman's  King; 
And  dat  gros  pied  de  cochon  —  begar,  me  vil  say 
Dat  de  foot  look  mosh  better,  if  turn'd  toder  way." 
There 's  the  pillar,  too  —  Lord  !  I  had  nearly  forgot  — ■ 
What  a  charming  idea  !  —  rais'd  close  to  the  spot ; 
The  mode  being  now,  (as  you've  heard,  I  suppose,) 
To  build  tombs  over  legs,t  and  raise  pillars  to  toes. 


*  To  commomonite  the  landiiifc  of  Louis  le  Desire^  from  Eng- 
land, tlio  iiii[)rcssion  of  his  foot  is  nnirked  out  on  tiic  j)ier  at  Ca- 
lais, uiid  a  pillar  with  an  inscription  raised  opposite  to  the  spot. 

f   Ci-git  la  janilje  de,  etc.  etc. 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS.  285 

This  is  all  that's  occurrM  sentimental  as  yet, 
Excei)t,  indeed,  some  little  flow'r-nymphs  we've  met, 
Who  disturb  one's  romance  with  pecuniary  views, 
Flinging  flow'rs^in  your  jiath,  and  then  —  bawling 
for  sous  !  [seem 

And   some  picturesque  beggars,  whose  multitudes 
To  recall  the  good  days  of  the  ancien  regime, 
All  as  ragged  and  brisk,  you  '11  be  happy  to  learn, 
And  as  thin  as  they  were  in  the  time  of  dear  Sterne. 

Our  party  consists  (in  a  neat  Calais  job) 
Of  Papa  and  myself,  Mr.  Connor  and  Bob. 
You  remember  how  sheepish  Bob  look'd  at   Kil- 

randy. 
But,  Lord  !  he 's  quite  alter'd  —  they  've  made  him  a 
Dandy ;  [laced, 

A   thing,   you   know,  whisker'd,   great-coated,  and 
Like  an  hour-glass,  exceedingly  small  in  the  waist : 
Quite    a    new  sort  of  ci'eatures,  unknown   yet   to 

scholars, 
With  heads,  so  immovably  stuck  in  shirt  collars, 
That  seats,  like  our  music-stools,  soon  must  be  found 

them,  ■  I 

To  twirl,  when  the  creatures  may  wish  to  look  round 

them. 
In  short,  dear,  "  a  Dandy  "  describes  Avhat  I  mean, 
And  Bob's  far  the  best  of  the  genus  I've  seen : 
An  improving  young  man,  fond  of  learning,  ambi- 
tious. 
And  goes  now  to  Paris  to  study  French  dishes, 


286  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    I\    PARIS. 

Whose  names —  think,  how  (luick  !  he  ah-eady  knows 

])!lt, 

A  la  braise,  pet  its  piiti's,  and  —  wliat  d'ye  call  that 
They  inflict  on  potatoes?  —  oh!  vyxitre  dliotcl  — 
I  assure  you,  dear  Dolly,  he  knows  them  as  well 
As  if  nothing  else  all  his  life  he  had  eat, 
Though  a  bit  of  them  Bohijy  has  never  touch'd  yet; 
But  just  knows  the   names  of  F'rench  dishes   and 

cooks. 
As  dear  Pa  knows  the  titles  of  authors  and  books. 

As  to  Pa,  what  d'ye  think?  —  mind,  it's  all  entre 

nous, 
But  you  know,  love,  I  never  keep  secrets  from  you  — 
Why,  he 's  writing  a  book — what !  a  tale  ?  a  romance  ? 
No,  ye  Gods,  would  it  were!  —  but  his  Travels  in 

France  ; 
At  the  special  desire  (he  let  out  t'other  day) 
Of  his  great  friend  and  patron,  my  Lord  Castle- 

REAGH, 

Who   said,  « My  dear    Fudge  " I  forget  th' 

exact  words. 
And,  it 's  strange,  no  one  ever  remembers  my  Lord's; 
But  'twas  something  to  say  that,  as  all  must  allow 
A  good  orthodox  work  is  much  wanting  just  now, 
To  expound  to  the  world  the  new  —  thingunnnie  — 

science,  [auce, 

Found  out  by  the  —  what's-its-name  —  Holy  Alli- 
And  pi-ove  to  inankiml  that  their  rights  are  but  folly, 
Their  freedom  a  joke  (which  it/s,  you  know,  Dolly), 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS.  287 

"There's  none,"  said  his  Lordship,  "if  /may  be 

Half  so  fit  for  this  great  undertaking  as  Fudge  !  " 

The  matter's  soon  settled  —  Pa  flies  to  the  Ro\o 
(The^rs^  stage  your  tourists  now  usually  go), 
Settles  all  for  his  quarto  —  advertisements,  praises  — 
Starts  post  from  the  door,  with  his  tablets  —  French 
phrases  —  [has 

"  Scott's  Visit,"  of  course  —  in  short,  ev'ry  thing  he 
An  author  can  want,  except  words  and  ideas :  — 
And,  lo !  the  first  thing,  in  the  spring  of  the  year, 
Is  Phil.  Fudge  at  the  front  of  a  Quarto,  my  dear ! 

But,  bless  me,  my  paper's  near  out,  so  I'd  better 
Draw  fast  to  a  close:  —  this  exceeding  long  letter 
You  owe  to  a  dejeuner  a  la  fourchette, 
Which  Bobby  would  have,  and  is  hard  at  it  yet.  — 
What's  next?  oh,  the  tutor,  the  last  of  the  party. 
Young   Connor:  —  they  say  he's  so   like  Bona- 
parte, 
His  nose  and  his  chin  —  which  Papa  rather  dreads, 
As  the    Bourbons,  you    know,  are  suppressing    all 

heads 
That  resemble  old  Nap's,  and  who  knows  but  their 

honours 
May  think,  in  their  fright,  of  suppressing  poor  Con- 
nor's ? 
Au  reste  (as  we  say),  the  young  lad's  well  enough, 
Only  talks  much  of  Athens,  Rome,  virtue,  and  stuff; 


288  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PAKIS. 

A  third  cousin  of  ours,  by  the  w:iy  —  poor  as  Job 
(Thougli  of  royal  descent  by  tlie  side  of  Mamma), 

And  for  charity  made  private  tutor  to  Bob  ;  — 
Entre  nous,  too,  a  Papist —  liow  lib'ral  of  Pa! 

This  is  all,  dear,  -7-  forgive  me  for  breaking  off  thus, 
But  Bob's  dejeuner^ &  done,  and  Papa's  in  a  fuss. 

B.  F. 

How  provoking  of  Pa  !  h&  will  not  let  me  stop 
Just  to  run  in  and  rummage  some  milliner's  shop ; 
Artd  my  debut  in  Paris,  I  blush  to  think  on  it. 
Must  now,  Doll,  be  made  in  a  hideous  low  bonnet. 
But  Paris,  dear  Paris  !  —  oh,  there  will  be  joy, 
And  romance,  and  high  bonnets,  and  Madame  Le 
Koi!* 


LETTEE  II. 

FROM  PHIL.   FUDGE,   ESQ.   TO  THE  LORD  VISCOUNT 
CASTLEREAGH. 

Paris. 
At  length,  my  Lord,  I  have  the  bliss 
To  date  to  you  a  line  from  this 
"  Demoraliz'd  "  metropolis  ; 
Wiiere,  by  plebians  low  and  scurvy, 
The  throne  was  turn'd  ({uitc  topsy  turvy, 

*  A  celebrated  miintua-nniker  in  Paris. 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS.  289 

And  Kingship,  tumbled  from  its  seat, 
"  Stood  prostrate  "  at  the  people's  feet ; 
Where  (still  to  use  your  Lordship's  tropes) 
The  level  of  obedience  slopes 
Upward  and  downward,  as  the  stream 
Of  hydra  faction  hichs  the  beam  !  * 
Where  the  poor  Palace  changes  masters 

Quicker  than  a  snake  its  skin, 
And  Louis  is  i-oll'd  out  on  castors. 

While  Boney's  borne  on  shoulders  in :  — 
But  where,  in  every  change,  no  doubt. 

One  special  good  your  Lordship  traces, — 
That  'tis  the  Kings  alone  turn  out, 

The  Mhiisters  still  keep  their  places. 

How  oft,  dear  Viscount  Castlereagh, 
I've  thought  of  thee  upon  the  way. 
As  in  my  job  (what  place  could  be 
More  apt  to  wake  a  thought  of  thee  ?)  — 
Or,  oftener  far,  when  gravely  sitting 
Upon  my  dicky,  (as  is  fitting 
For  him  who  writes  a  Tour,  that  he 
May  more  of  men  and  manners  see,) 
I've  thought  of  thee  and  of  thy  glories. 
Thou  guest  of  Kings,  and  King  of  Tories  ! 

*  This  excellent  imitation  of  the  noble  Lord's  stj'le  shows 
how  deeply  Mr.  Fudge  must  have  studied  his  great  origina}. 
Irish  oratory,  indeed,  abounds  with  such  startling  peculiarities. 
Thus  the  eloquent  Counsellor  B ,  in  describing  some  hypo- 
critical pretender  to  charity,  said,  "  He  put  his  hand  in  his 
breeches-pocket,  like  a  crocodile,  and,"  etc.  etc. 
VOL.  II.                                 19 


290  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    FAUIS. 

Reflecting  how  thy  fame  has  grown 

And  spread,  beyond  niaii'.s  usual  share, 
At  home,  al)road,  till  thou  art  known, 

Like  Major  Semple,  everywhere  ! 
And  inarv'lling  witli  wiiat  pow'rs  of  breath 
Your  Lordshij),  having  speech'd  to  death 
Some  hundreds  of  your  fellow-men, 
Next  speech'd  to  Sovereigns'  ears,  —  and  when 
All  Sovereigns  else  were  doz'd,  at  last 
Speech'd  down  the  Sovereign  *  of  Belfast. 
Oh !  mid  the  praises  and  the  trophies 
Thou  gain'st  from  Morosophs  and  Sophis ; 
Mid  all  the  tributes  to  thy  fame. 

There's  one   thou  should'st  be    chiefly  pleas'd 
at  — 
That  Ireland  gives  her  snuff  thy  name, 

And  CASTLEREAGu'sthe  thing  now  sneez'd  at! 

But  hold,  my  pen  !  —  a  truce  to  praising  — 
Though  ev'n  your  Lordship  will  allow 

The  theme's  temptations  are  amazing ; 
But  time  and  ink  run  short,  and  now, 

(As  thou  wouldst  say,  my  guide  and  teacher 
In  these  gay  metaphoric  fringes, 

*  Tlio  title  of  the  chief  magistrate  of  Belfast,  before  whom  his 
Lordsliip  (with  the  "stiulium  immane  loquendi "  attributed  by 
Ovid  to  that  ehattering  and  rapacious  class  of  birds,  the  pies) 
delivered  sundry  long  and  self-gratulatory  orations,  on  his  re- 
turn from  the  Continent.  It  was  at  one  of  these  Irish  dinners 
that  his  gallant  brother,  Lord  S.,  proposed  the  health  of  "  The 
best  cavalry  officer  in  Europe  —  the  Regent!  " 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS.  291 

I  must  embark  into  i\\e  feature 

On  which  this  letter  chiefly  hinges ;  — 
My  Book,  the  Book  that  is  to  prove  — 
And  icill,  (^o  help  ye  Sprites  above, 
That  sit  on  clouds,  as  gi"ave  as  judges, 
Watching  the  labours  of  the  Fudges  !) 
Will  prove  that  all  the  world,  at  present. 
Is  in  a  state  extremely  pleasant ; 
That  Europe  —  thanks  to  royal  swords 

And  bay'nets,  and  the  Duke  commanding  — 
Enjoys  a  peace  which,  like  the  Lord's, 

Passeth  all  human  understanding : 
That  France  prefers  her  go-cart  King 

To  such  a  coward  scamp  as  Boxet  ; 
Though  round,  with  each  a  leading-string, 

There  standeth  many  a  Royal  crony, 
For  fear  the  chubby,  tottering  thing 

Should  fall,  if  left  there  loney-poney  ;  — 
That  England,  too,  the  more  her  debts, 
The  more  she  spends,  the  richer  gets ; 
And  that  the  Irish,  grateful  nation ! 

Remember  when  by  thee  reign'd  over, 
And  bless  thee  for  their  flagellation. 

As  Heloisa  did  her  lover  !  —  t 
That  Poland,  left  for  Russia's  lunch 

Upon  the  side-board,  snug  reposes  : 

*  Verbatim  from  one  of  the  noble  Viscount's  Speeches  — 
"  And  now,  Sir,  I  must  embark  into  the  feature  on  which  this 
question  chiefly  hinges." 

t  See  her  Letters. 


292  TtlK    FL-nGE    FAMILY    IX    I'ARIS. 

While  Saxony 's  as  pleased  as  Punch, 
And  Norway  "  on  a  bed  of  roses  ! " 
That,  as  for  some  few  million  souls, 

Transferr'd  by  contract,  bless  tlie  clods ! 
If  half  were  strangled  —  Spaniards,  Poles, 

And  Frenchmen  —  't  would  n't  make  much  odds, 
So  Europe's  goodly  Royal  ones 
Sit  easy  on  their  sacred  thrones  ; 
So  Fkrdixand  embroiders  gaily, 
And  Louis  eats  his  sab)n\'f  daily ; 
So  time  is  left  to  Emperor  Sandy 
To  be  half  Caisar  and  half  Dandy ; 
And  George  the  Regent  (who  'd  forget 
That  doughtiest  chieftain  of  the  set?) 
Hath  wherewithal  for  trinkets  new, 

For  dragons  after  Chinese  models, 
And  chambers  where  Duke  IIo  and  Soo 

Might  come  and  nine  times  knock  their  nod- 
dles !  — 
All  this  my  Quarto  '11  prove  —  much  more 
Than  Quarto  ever  proved  before  :  — 
In  reas'ning  with  the  Post  I'll  vie. 
My  facts  the  Courier  shall  supply, 

*  It  would  be  an  edifyin.f;  thing  to  write  a  history  of  the 
private  amusements  of  sovereigns,  tnicing  them  clown  from  the 
fly-sticking  of  Domitian,  the  mole-catching  of  Arlabanus,  the 
hog-mimicking  of  I'armenides,  the  horse-currying  of  Aretas,  to 
the  petticoat  cmliroidering  of  Ferdinand,  atid  the  patience-play 
ing  of  the  Prince  Kegent! 

Oipa  TE,  oia  cdovai  6w7p£<i>£eg  fSaailrjeg. 

IIo.mkh,  OJi/ss.  3. 

S 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS.  293 

My  jokes  Vansittart,  Peele  ray  sense, 
And  thou,  sweet  Lord,  my  eloquence ! 

My  Journal,  penn'd  by  fits  and  starts, 

On  Biddy's  back  or  Bobby's  shoulder, 
(My  son,  my  Lord,  a  youtli  of  parts, 

Who  longs  to  be  a  small  place-holder,) 
Is  —  though  /say't,  that  shouldn't  say  — 
Extremely  good ;  and,  by  the  way, 
One  extract  from  it  —  only  one  — 
To  show  its  spirit,  and  I've  done. 
^' Jul.  thirty-first.  —  Went,  after  snack, 

"  To  the  Catliedral  of  St.  Denny ; 
"  Sigh'd  o'er  the  Kings  of  ages  back, 

"  And  —  gave  the  old  Concierge  a  penny. 
" (3fem.  —  Must  see  Rheims,  much  fam'd,  'tis  said, 
"  For  making  Kings  and  gingerbread.) 
"  Was  shown  the  tomb  where  lay,  so  stately, 
"  A  little  Bourbon,  buried  lately, 
"  Thrice  high  and  puissant,  we  were  told, 
'•'  Though  only  twenty-four  hours  old !  * 
"  Hear  this,  thought  I,  ye  Jacobins : 
"  Ye  Burdetts,  tremble  in  your  skins  ! 
"  If  Royalty,  but  aged  a  day, 
"  Can  boast  such  high  and  puissant  sway, 
"  What  impious  hand  its  pow'r  would  fix, 
«  FuU  fledg'd  and  wigg'd  f  at  fifty-six  !  " 

*  So  described  on  the  cofSn:    "  tres-haute  et  puissante  Prin- 
cesse,  agee  d'un  jour." 

t  There  is  a  fulness    and  breadth  in  this  portrait  of  Royalty, 


294  Tin:  rLi>GE  family  tn  parts. 

The  argument's  quite  new,  you  see, 
And  proves  exactly  Q.  E.  D. 
So  now,  Avith  duty  to  the  Regent, 
I  am,  dear  Lord, 

Your  most  obedient. 


Hotel  Breteuil,  Rue  Rivoli. 

Neat  lodgings  —  rather  dear  for  me  ; 

But  Biddy  said  she  thought  'twould  look 

Gentoeler  thus  to  date  my  Book  ; 

And  Biddy's  right — besides,  it  curries 

Some  favour  with  our  friends  at  Muuray's, 

Who  scorn  what  any  man  can  say, 

That  dates  ft-om  Rue  St.  Honore  !  * 


LETTER   III. 

FROJI   MU.   BOB   FUDGE  TO   RICHABD    ,   ESQ. 

Oh  Dick  !  you  may  talk  of  your  writing  and  reading, 
Your    Logic   and  Greek,  but  there's  nothing   like 

feeding ; 
And  this  is  the  place  for  it,  Dicky,  you  dog, 
Of  all  places  on  earth  —  tiie  head-quarters  of  Prog! 

which  rciiiiiiils  us  of  \vh:it  Pliny  siiys,  in  speaking  of  Trajun's 
great  qualities:  —  "  nonne  long6  lateque  Principem  ostentant?  " 

*  See  the  Quarterly  Review  for  ^lay,  ISIG,"  where  Mr.  Hob- 
house  is  acciisoil  of  having  written  his  book  "  in  a  back  street  of 
the  French  caiiital." 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY   IN    PARIS.  295 

Talk   of  England  —  her   famed   Magna    Cliarta,  I 

swear,  is 
A  humbug,  a  flam,  to  the  Carte  *  at  old  Ve'ry's  ; 
And  as  for  your  Juries  —  who  would  not  set  o'er  'em 
A  Jury  of  Tasters,t  with  woodcocks  before  'em  ? 
Give   Cartavright  his    Parliaments,  fresh   every 

year ; 
But  those  friends  of  short  Commons  would  never  do 

here ; 
And,  let  RoMiLY  speak  as  he  will  on  the  question, 
No  Digest  of  Law  's  like  the  laws  of  digestion  ! 

By  the  by,  Dick,  1  fatten  —  but  n'impoi'te  for  that, 
'Tis  the  mode  —  your  Legitimates  always  get  fat. 
There's  the  Regent,  there's  Louis  —  and  Boney 

tried  too, 
But,  tho'  somewhat  imperial  in  paunch,  't wouldn't 

do :  —  [wed. 

He  improv'd,  indeed,  much  in  this  point,  when  he 
Bat  he  ne'er  grew  right  royally  fat  in  the  head. 

Dick,  Dick,  what  a  place   is   this   Paris!  —  but 

stay  — 
As  my  i-aptures  may  bore  you,  I'll  just  sketch  a 

Day, 

»  The  Bill  of  Fare.  —  V^ry,  a  well-known  Restaurateur. 

t  Sir.  Bob  alludes  particularly,  1  presume,  to  the  faiiious  Jury 
D^gustateur,  which  used  to  assemble  at  the  Hotel  of  M.  Grimod 
de  la  Eeyniere,  and  of  which  this  modern  Archcstratus  has 
giyen  an  account  in  his  Almanach  des  Gourmands,  cinqui^me 
ann6e,  p.  78. 


296  THE  FUDGi:  ia.mily  ix  parts. 

As  we  pass  it,  myself  and  some  comrades  I've  got, 
All  thorough-bred  Gnostics,  who  know  whaL  is  what. 

After  dreaming  some  hours  of  the  land  of  Cocaigne,* 

That  Elysium  of  all  that  is  f Hand  and  nice, 
Whei'e  for  hail  they  have  bon-bons,  and  claret  for 

rain, 
And  the  skaiters  in  winter  show  off  on  cream-ice ; 
Where  so  ready  all  nature  its  cookery  yields, 
Macaroni  an  parmesan  grows  in  the  fields  ; 
Little  birds  fly  about  with  the  true  pheasant  taint. 
And  the  geese  are  all  born  with  a  liver  complaint!  f 
I  rise  —  put  on  neckrcloth  —  stiff,  tiglit,  as  can  be  — 
For  a  lad  who  goes  into  the  world,  Dick,  like  me. 
Should  have  his  neck  tied  up,  you  know  —  there 's 

no  doubt  of  it  — 
Almost  as  tight  as  some  lads  who  go  out  of  it. 
With  whiskers  well  oil'd,  and  Avith  boots  that  "  hold 

up 
"  The  mirror  to  nature"  —  so  bright  you  could  sup 


*  The  fiiiry-lfind  of  cookery  and  gourmandise;  "Pais,  oil  le 
ciel  odVc  les  y'uuhIcs  toutes  cuites,  et  oii,  commeon  purle,  les 
alouottcs  tombcnt  toutes  roties.      Du  Katin,  coquere."  —  Buchal. 

t  The  proces.a  by  which  the  liver  of  the  unfortunate  goose 
is  enlarired,  in  order  to  ])roduce  that  richest  of  all  dainties,  the 
Jhie  </rns,  of  which  such  renowned  jjrtcs  are  made  at  Strasbourg 
and  Toidouse,  is  thus  described  in  the  Cours  Gustronomique:  — 
"On  d»'])lume  Testomac  des  oies;  on  attache  ensuite  ces  ani- 
maux  aux  chcnets  d'une  chemin(''e,  et  on  les  nourrit  dcvant  le 
feu.  La  captivite  et  la  chaleur  doniient  ii  ces  volatiles,  uiie 
nialadic  liepatiipie,  (jui  fait  gonfler  lour  ibic,"  etc.  p.  206. 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS.  297 

Off  the  leather  hke  china;  with  coat,  too,  that  draws 
On  the  tailor,  who  suffers,  a  martyr's  applause !  — 
With  head  bridled  up,  like  a  four-in-hand  leader, 
And  stays  —  devil's  in  them  —  too  tight  for  a  feeder, 
I  strut  to  the  old  Cafe  Hardy,  which  yet 
Beats  the  field  at  a  dejeuner  a  la  fourchette. 
There,  Dick,  what  a  breakfast!  —  oh,  not  like  your 

ghost 
Of  a  breakfast  in  England,  your  crust  tea  and  toast ;  * 

*  Is  Mr.  Bob  aware  that  liis  contempt  for  tea  renders  him  liable 
to  a  charge  of  atheism?  Such,  at  least,  is  the  opinion  cited  in 
Christiaii.  Fahlei:  Amcenitat.  PhUolog. — "  Atheum  interpretabntur 
homineu  ad  lierba  The  aversum."  He  would  not,  I  think,  have 
been  so  irreverent  to  this  beverage  of  scholars,  if  he  had  read 
Peter  PetWs  Poem  in  praise  of  Tea,  addressed  to  the  learned 
Huet  —  or  the  Epigraphe  which  PedtUnus  wrote  for  an  altar  he 
meant  to  dedicate  to  this  herb  —  or  the  Anacreontics  of  Peter 
Francius,  in  which  he  calls  Tea 

Qeav,  ^eTjv,  dsaivav. 

The  following  passage  from  one  of  these  Anaci-eontics  will,  I 
have  no  doubt,  be  gratifying  to  all  true  Theists. 
Gcoif,  -dtuv  re  na-pi, 
Ev  xpvosot^  aKv<poLai 
Ai&oi  TO  VEK-ap  'H'^rj.  i 

2£  fioi  diaKovocvTO 
l,Kv<poig  ev  fivppivoiai, 
T(j  Ka7i7.Ei  —pe—ovaai 
Ka?uug  ;^;epe(rai  Kovpai. 
Which  may  be  thus  translated :  — 

Yes,  let  Hebe,  ever  young, 

High  in  heav'n  her  jiectar  hold, 
And  to  Jove's  immortal  throng 
Pour  the  tide  in  cups  of  gold  — 


298  THK    Fl'DGK    lAMlLY    IK    PARIS. 

But  a  si(le-lx)ard,  you  dog,  where  one's  eye  roves 

about, 
Like  ii  Turk's  in  the  Iluram,  and  thence  singles  out 
One's  ^*r//t'  of  larks,  just  to  tune  up  the  throat. 
One's  small  limbs  of"  ehiokens,  done  en  papillate, 
One's  erudite  cutlets,  drest  all  ways  but  plain, 
Or    one's    kidneys  —  imagine,    Dick  —  done    Avith 

champagne ! 
Then,  some  glasses  of  JScaune,  to  dilute  —  or,  may- 
hap, 
Chamhertln,*  which  you   know's  the  pet  tipple  of 

Nap, 
And  which  Dad,  by  the  by,  that  legitimate  stickler, 
Much  scruples  to  taste,  but  /'m  not  so  partic'lar.  — 
Your  coffee  comes  next,  by  prescription :  and  then, 

DiCK,'s 
The  coffee's  ne'er-failing  and  glorious  appendix, 
(If  books  had  but  such,  my  old  Grecian,  depend  on't 
I'd  swallow  ev'n  Watkins',  for  sake  of  the  end  on't,) 
A  neat  glass  o^ parfalt-amour  which  one  sips 
Just  as  if  bottled  velvet  f  tipp'd  over  one's  lips. 
This  repast  being  ended,  and  paid  for —  (how  odd! 
Till  a  man 's  us'd  to  paying,  there 's  something  so 
queer  in't !)  — 


/■//  not  envy  heaven's  Princes, 
While,  witli  sn<iu  v  liands,  for  me, 

Katk  the  china  tea-cup  riii<es, 
And  pours  out  her  best  Bohea ! 

*  Tlie  favourite  wine  of  Napoleon, 
t    Vdours  en  boutcille. 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY   IX    PARIS.  299 

The  sun  now  well  out,  and  the  girls  all  abroad, 
And  the  world  enough  air'd  for  us.  Nobs,  to  ap- 
pear in't, 
"We  lounge  up  the  Boulevards,  where  —  oh,  Dick, 

the  phyzzes, 
The  turn-outs,  we  meet  —  Avhat  a  nation  of  quizzes  ! 
Here  toddles  along  some  old  figure  of  fun. 
With  a  coat  you  might  date  Anno  Domini  1. ; 
A  lac'd  hat,  worsted  stockings,  and  —  noble  old  soul ! 
A  fine  ribbon  and  cross  in  his  best  button-hole ; 
Just  such  as  our  Prince,  who  nor  reason  nor  fun 

dreads, 
Inflicts,  without  ev'n  a  court-martial,  on  hundi-eds.* 
Here  trips  a  grisette,  with  a  fond,  roguish  eye, 
(Rather  eatable  things  these  grisettes  by  the  by)  ; 
And  there  an  old  demoiselle,  almost  as  fond, 
In  a  silk  that  has  stood  since  the  time  of  the  Fronde. 
There  goes  a  French  Dandy  —  ah,  Dick!    unlike 

some  ones 
We've  seen  about  White's  —  the  Mounseers  are  but 

rum  ones ; 
Such  hats ! — fit  for  monkies — ^I'd  back  Mrs.  Draper 
To  cut  neater  weather-boards  out  of  brown  paper : 
And  coats — how  I  wish,  if  it  wouldn't  distress  'em. 
They  'd  club  for  old  Brumjiel,  from  Calais,  to  dress 
'em! 

*  It  was  said  by  Wicquefort,  more  than  a  hundred  years  ago, 
"  Le  Roi  d'Angleterre  fait  seul  plus  de  chevaliers  que  tous  les 
autres  Rois  de  la  Chr^tient^  ensemble."  —  What  would  he  say 
now? 


300  THE    l^UDGE    FAMILY    IX    PAUIS. 

The  collar  sticks  out  from  the  neck  such  a  space, 

That  you'd  swear  'twas  the  plan  of  this  head- 
lopping  nation, 
To  leave  there  behind  them  a  snug  little  place 

For  the  head  to  drop  into,  on  decapitation. 
In  short,  what  with  mountebanks,  counts,  and  friseurs, 
Some  mummers  by  trade,  and  the  rest  amateurs  — 
What  with  captains  in   new  jockey-boots  and   silk 
breeches, 

Old  dustmen  with  swinging  great  opera-hats, 
And  shoeblacks  reclining  by  statues  in  niches, 

There  never  was  seen  such  a  race  of  Jack  Sprats ! 

From  the   Boulevards  —  but   hearken!  —  yes — as 

I'm  a  sinner. 
The  clock  is  just  striking  the  half-hour  to  dinner : 
So  no  more  at  present  —  short  time  for  adorning  — 
My  Day  must  be  finish'd  some  other  fine  morning. 
Now,  hey  for  old  Beauvilliers'*  larder,  my  boy! 
And,  once  there,  if  the  Goddess  of  Beauty  and  Joy 
Were  to  write  "  Come  and  kiss  me,  dear  Bob  !  "  I'd 

not  budge  — 
Not  a  step,  Dick,  as  sure  as  my  name  is 

R.  Fudge. 

*  A  celebrated  restaurateur. 


THE   FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS.  301 


LETTER    IV. 

FROJI  PHELIM   COSXOR  TO 


"  Return  ! "  — no,  never,  while  the  withering  hand 
Of  bigot  power  is  on  that  hapless  land ; 
While,  for  the  faith  my  fiithers  held  to  God, 
Ev'n  in  the  fields  where  free  those  fathers  trod, 
I  am  proscrib'd,  and  —  like  the  spot  left  bare 
In  Israel's  halls,  to  tell  the  proud  and  fair 
Amidst  their  mirth,  that  Slavery  had  been  there  — 
On  all  I  love,  home,  parents,  friends,  I  trace 
The  mournful  mark  of  bondage  and  disgrace ! 
No  !  —  let  them  stay,  w^ho  in  their  country's  pangs 
See  nought  but  food  for  factions  and  harangues  ; 
Who  yearly  kneel  befoi-e  their  masters'  doors. 
And  hawk  their  wrongs,  as  beggars  do  their  sores: 
t  Still  let  your 


CO' 

*  *  *  *  * 


Still  hope  and  suffer,  all  who  can  !  —  but  I, 
Who  durst  not  hope,  and  cannot  bear,  must  fly. 

"  They  used  to  leave  a  yard  square  of  the  wall  of  the  house 
unplastered,  on  which  they  write,  in  large  letters,  either  the  fore- 
mentioned  verse  of  the  Psalmist,  ('If  I  forget  thee,  0  Jerusalem,' 
etc.)  or  the  words  —  '  The  memory  of  the  desolation.'  "  —  Leo  oj 
Modena. 

t  I  have  thought  it  prudent  to  omit  some  parts  of  Mr.  Phelim 
Connor's  letter.  He  is  evidently  an  intemperate  young  man,  and 
has  associated  with  his  cousins,  the  Fudges,  to  very  little  pur- 
pose. 


302  TIIK    I'UDGi:    FAMILY    IN    I'ARIS. 

But  whither  ?  —  everywhere  the  scourge  pursues  — 
Turn  where  he  will,  the  wretched  wjuulerer  views, 
In  tlie  bright,  broken  hojMis  of  all  his  race, 
Countless  reflections  of  th'  Oppressor's  face. 
Everywhere  gallant  hearts,  and  spirits  true. 
Are  serv'd  up  victims  to  the  vile  and  few ; 
While  England,  everywhere  —  the  general  foe 
Of  Truth  and  Freedom,  wheresoe'er  they  glow  — 
Is  first,  when  tyrants  strike,  to  aid  the  blow. 

Oh,  England !  could  such  poor  revenge  atone 

For  wrongs,  that  well   might   claim    the    deadliest 

one ; 
"Were  it  a  vengeance,  sweet  enough  to  sate 
The  wi-etch  who  flies  from  thy  intolerant  hate, 
To  hear  his  curses  on  such  barbarous  sway, 
Echoed,  where'er  he  bends  his  cheerless  way  ;  — 
Could  this  content  him,  every  lip  he  meets 
Teems  for  his  vengeance  with  such  poisonous  sweets ; 
Were  this  his  luxury,  never  is  thy  name 
Pronounc'd,  but  he  doth  banquet  on  thy  shame ; 
Hears  maledictions  ring  from  every  side 
Upon  that  grasping  power,  that  selfish  pride. 
Which  vaunts  its  own,  and  scorns  all  rights  beside ; 
That  low  and  desperate  envy,  which  to  blast 
A  neighbour's  blessings,  risks  the  few  thou  hast ;  — 
That  monster,  Self,  too  gross  to  be  conceal'd, 
Which  ever  lurks  behind  thy  proffer'd  shield  ;  — 
That  faithless  craft,  which,  in  thy  hour  of  need, 
Can  court  the  slave,  can  swear  he  shall  be  freed, 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS.  303 

Yet  basely  spurns  him,  when  thy  point  is  gain'd, 

Back  to  his  masters,  ready  gagg'd  and  chain'd ! 

Worthy  associate  of  that  band  of  Kings, 

That  royal,  rav'ning  flock,  whose  vampire  wings 

O'er  sleeping  Europe  treacherously  brood, 

And  fan  her  into  dreams  of  promis'd  good, 

Of  hope,  of  freedom  — but  to  drain  her  blood ! 

If  thus  to  hear  thee  branded  be  a  bliss  [this, 

That  Vengeance  loves,  there 's  yet  more  sweet  than 

That  'twas  an  Irish  head,  an  Irish  heart, 

Made  thee  the  fall'n  and  tarnish'd  thing  thou  art ; 

That,  as  the  centaur  *  gave  th'  infected  vest 

In  which  he  died,  to  rack  his  conqueror's  breast. 

We  sent  thee  Castlereagh:  —  as  heaps  of  dead 

Have  slain  their  slayers  by  the  pest  they  spread, 

So  hath  our  land  breath'd  out,  thy  fame  to  dim. 

Thy  strength  to  waste,  and  rot  thee,  soul  and  limb, 

Her  worst  infections  all  condens'd  in  him ! 

****** 
AVhen  will  the  world  shake  off  such  yokes  ?  oh,  when 
Will  that  redeeming  day  shine  out  on  men, 
That  shall  behold  them  rise,  erect  and  free 
As  Heav'n  and  Nature  meant  mankind  should  be ! 
When  Reason  shall  no  longer  blindly  bow 
To  the  vile  pagod  things,  that  o'er  her  brow. 
Like  him  of  Jaghernaut,  drive  trampling  now ; 

Membra  et  Herculeos  toros 
Urit  lues  Nessea. 
lUe,  ille  victor  vincitur. 

Sexec.  Hercid.  (El. 


304  TIIK    FUDGK    FAMILY    IX    PARIS. 

Nor  Conquest  dare  to  desolate  God's  earth ; 
Nor  drunken  Victory,  with  a  Nicuo's  mirtli, 
Strike  licr  lewd  harp  amidst  a  people's  groans;  — 
But,  built  on  love,  the  world's  exalted  thrones 
Shall  to  the  virtuous  and  the  wise  be  siven  — 
Those  bright,  those  sole  Legitimates  of  Heaven  ! 

When  will  this  be?  —  or,  oh!  is  it,  in  truth, 
But  one  of  those  sweet,  day -break  dreams  of  youth, 
In  which  the  Soul,  as  round  her  morning  springs, 
'Twixt  sleep  and  waking,  sees  such  dazzling  things! 
And  must  the  hope,  as  vain  as  it  is  bright, 
Be  all  resigned?  —  and  are  the?/  only  right. 
Who  say  this  world  of  thinking  souls  w'as  made 
To  be  by  Kings  partition'd,  truck'd,  and  weigh'd 
In  scales  that,  ever  since  the  world  begun. 
Have  counted  millions  but  as  dust  to  one  ? 
Are  i/tet/  the  only  wise,  who  laugh  to  scorn 
The  rights,  the  freedom  to  which  man  was  born  ? 
"Who  ***** 

****** 

AVho,  proud  to  kiss  each  sejiarate  rod  of  power. 
Bless,  while  he  reigns,  the  minion  of  the  hour; 
"Worship  each  w^ould-be  God,  that  o'er  them  moves, 
And  take  the  thundering  of  his  brass  for  Jove's  ! 
If  this  be  wisdom,  then  farewell,  my  books, 
Farewell,  ye  shrines  of  old,  ye  classic  brooks, 
.AVhich  fed  my  soul  with  currents,  pure  and  fnii-. 
Of  living  Truth,  that  now  mu?t  stagnate  there!  — 
Instead  of  themes  that  touch  the  Ivre  with  li^ht. 
Instead  of  Greece,  and  her  immortal  fight 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY   IX    PARIS.  305 

For  Liberty,  which  once  awak'd  my  strings, 
"Welcome  the  Gi'and  Conspiracy  of  Kings, 
The  High  Legitimates,  tlie  Ploly  Band, 
"Who,  bolder  even  than  He  of  Sparta's  land, 
Against  whole  millions,  panting  to  be  free, 
Would  guard  the  pass  of  right-line  tyranny. 
Instead  of  him,  th'  Athenian  bai*d,  whose  blade 
Had  stood  the  onset  which  his  pen  pourtray'd, 
"Welcome     ***** 

^  ¥^  ■^  TJf  -Sf  "Sffr 

And,  'stead  of  Aristides  —  woe  the  day 

Such  names  should  mingle  !  —  welcome  Castlereagh ! 

Here  break  we  off,  at  this  unhallow'd  name,* 
Like  priests  of  old,  when  words  ill-omen'd  came. 
My  next  shall  tell  thee,  bitterly  shall  tell. 
Thoughts  that         *  *  *  * 

Thoughts  that  —  could  patience  hold  —  'twere  Aviser 
To  leave  still  hid  and  burning  where  they  are. 

*  The  late  Lord  C.  of  Ireland  had  a  curious  theory  about 
names;  he  held  that  every  man  with  ih-ee  names  was  a  jacobin. 
His  instances  in  Ireland  were  numerous :  —  viz.  Archibald  Ham- 
ilton Rowan,  Theobald  Wolfe  Tone,  James  Napper  Tandy,  John 
Philpot  Curran,  etc.  etc.  and,  in  England,  he  produced  as  ex- 
amples Charles  James  Fox,  Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan,    John 
Home  Tooke,  Francis  Burdett  Jones,  etc.  etc. 
The  Romans  called  a  thief  "homo  trinm  literarum." 
Tun'  trium  literarum  homo 
Me  vituperas  ?    Fur.^ 

Plautus,  Aulular.    Act  ii.  Scene  4. 

1  Dissaldeiis  supposes  this  word  to  be  glossema:  —  that  is,  he  think? 
"  Fur  ■■  has  made  his  escape  from  the  margin  into  the  text. 

VOL.  II.  20 


30G  THE    FL'DOE    FAMILY    I\    PARIS. 


LETTER   V. 

FROJI   MISS   BIDDY   FL'DGE   TO    MISS   DOROTHY  ■ 


What  a  time  since  I  wrote  I  —  I'm  a  sad,  naughty 

For,  tliOLigh,  like  a  tee-totum,  I'm  all  in  a  twirl ;  — 
Yet  e\'^ia  (jus  you  wittily  say)  a  tee-totum 
Between  all  its  twirls  gives  a  letter  to  note  'em. 
But,  Lord,  such    a   place !    and   then,  Dolly,  my 

dresses,  , 

]My  gowns,  «o  divine !  —  there 's  no  language  ex- 
presses, 
Except  just  two  words  "superbe,"  "  magnifique," 
The  trimmings  of"  that  which  I  had  home  last  week . 
It   is   call'd  —  I   forget  —  a  la  —  something   which 

sounded 
Like  alicampmie  —  but,  in  truth,  I'm  confounded 
And  bother'd,  my  dear,  'twixt  that  troublesome  boy's 
(Boil's)  cookery  language,  and  Madame  le  Roi's  : 
What  with  tillets  of  roses,  and  fillets  of  veal. 
Things  garni  witli  lace,  and  things  garni  with  eel, 
One's  hair  and  one's  cutlets  both  en  jxtpillote. 
And  a  thousand  more  tilings  I  shall  ne'er  have  by 

rote, 
I  can  scarce  tell  the  diff'rence,  at  least  as  to  phrase, 
3etween  beef  a  la  Psi/r/ie  and  curls  a  la  braise.  — 
But,  in  short,  dear,  I'm  trick'd  out  quite  ;\  la  Fran- 
gaise, 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS.  307 

"With   my   bonnet  —  so   beautiful !  —  high   up    and 

poking', 
Like  things  that   are    put   to  keep    chimnies   from 

smoking. 

Where  shall  I  begin  with  the  endless  delights 
Of  this  Eden  of  milliners,  monkies,  and  sights  — 
This  dear  busy  place,  where  there's  nothing  trans- 
acting 
But  dressing  and  dinnering,  dancino;  and  acting  ? 
Imprimis,  the  Opera  —  mercy,  my  ears  ! 

Brother  BoBBy's  remark,  t'other  night,  was  a  true 
one ;  — 
"  This  must  be  the  music,"  said  he,  "  of  the  spears, 
"For  I'm  curst  if  each  note  of  it  doesn't  run 
through  one ! " 
Pa  says  (and  you  know,  love,  his  Book's  to  make 

out 
'T  was  the  Jacobins  brought  every  mischief  about) 
That  this  passion  for  roaring  has  come  in  of  late. 
Since  the  rabble  all  tried  for  a  voice  in  the  State.  — 
What  a  friglitful  idea,  one's  mind  to  o'erwhelm  ! 
What  a  cliorus,  dear  Dolly,  would  soon  be  let 
loose  of  it. 
If,  when  of  age,  every  man  in  the  realm 

Had  a  voice  hke  old  La'Is,*  and  chose  to  make  use 
of  it! 

*  The  oldest,  most  celebrated,  and  most  noisy  of  the  singers  at 
the  French  Opera. 


308  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS. 

No  —  never  Avas  known  in  this  riotous  sphere 
Sucli  a  breach  of  the  peace  as  their  singing,  my  dear. 
So  bad  too,  yon  'd  swear  that  the  God  of  both  arts, 

Of  Music  and  Physic,  had  taken  a  frolic 
For  setting  a  loud  fit  of  asthma  in  parts. 

And  composing  a  fine  rumbling  base  to  a  cholic ! 

But,  the  dancing  —  ah  parlez-moi,  Dolly,  de  ga  — 
There,  indeed,  is  a  treat  that'Cliarms  all  but  Papa. 
Such   beauty — sucli  grace  —  oh  ye  sylphs  of  ro- 
mance ! 

Fly,  fiy  to  TiTAXiA,  and  ask  her  if  slie  has 
One  light-footed  nymph  in  her  train,  that  can  dance, 

Like  divine  Bigottixi  and  sweet  Fanny  Bias  ! 
Fanny  Bias  in  Floiia  —  dear  creature  !  —  you'd 
swear 

"When  her  delicate  feet  in  the  dance  twinkle  round, 
That  her  steps  are  of  liglit,  that  her  home  is  the  air, 

And  she  OYtXjpar  complaisance  touches  the  ground. 
And  when  Bigottixi  in  Psyche  dishevels 

Her  black  flowing  hair,  and  by  daemons  is  driven, 
Oh !  who  does  not  envy  those  rude  little  devils, 

That  hold  her  and  hug  her,  and  keep  her  from 
heaven  ? 
Then,  the  music  —  so  softly  its  cadences  die, 
So  divinely  —  oh,  Dolly  !  between  you  and  I, 
It's  as  well  for  my  peace  that  there's  nobody  nigh 
To  make  love  to  me  then  — yoiCve  a  soul,  and  can 
judge  [Fudge  ! 

What  a  crisis  'twould  be  for   your  friend   Biddy 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS.  309 

The  next  place  (which  Bobby  has  near  lost  his 

heai't  in) 
Thej   call   it   the    Play-house  —  I   think  —  of   St. 

Martin  ;  * 
Quite  charming  —  and  very  i-eligious  — what  folly 
To  say  that  the  French  are  not  pious,  dear  Dolly, 
When  here  one  beholds,  so  correctly  and  rightly, 
The  Testament  turn'd  into  melo-drames  nightly ;  f 
And,  doubtless,  so  fond  they  're  of  scriptural  facts, 
They  will  soon  get  the  Pentateuch  up  in  fi\e  acts. 
Here  Daniel,  in  pantomime,+  bids  bold  defiance 
To  Nebuchadnezzar  and  all  his  stufF'd  lions, 
"While   pretty   young   Israelites    dance   round    the 

Prophet, 
In  very  thin  clothing,  and  hut  little  of  it ;  — 

*  The  Theatre  de  la  Porte  St.  Martin,  which  was  built  when 
the  Opera  House  in  the  Palais  Royal  was  burned  down,  in  1781. 
—  A  few  days  after  this  dreadful  fire,  which  lasted  more  than  a 
week,  and  in  which  several  persons  perished,  the  Parisian 
elegantes  displaj-ed  flame-coloured  dresses,  "couleur  de  feu 
d'Op^ra!  "  —  Dulaure,  Shiriosites  de  Paris. 

t  "The  Old  Testament,"  says  the  theatrical  Critic  in  the 
Gazette  de  France,  "  is  a  mine  of  gold  for  the  managers  of  our 
small  plaj--houses.  A  multitude  crowd  round  the  Theatre  de 
la  Gaiet^  every  evening  to  see  the  Passage  of  the  Red  Sea." 

In  the  play-bill  of  one  of  these  sacred  melo-drames  at  Vienna, 
we  find  "  The  Voice  of  God,  b}'  M.  Schwartz." 

X  A  piece  very  popular  last  year,  called  "  Daniel,  ou  La  Fosse 
aux  Lions."  The  following  scene  will  give  an  idea  of  the  daring 
sublimity  of  these  scriptural  pantomimes.  "Scene  20.  —  La 
fournaise  devient  un  berceau  de  nuages  azures,  au  fond  duquel 
est  un  grouppe  de  nuages  plus  lumineux,  et  au  milieu  '.leliovali' 
au  centre  d'un  cercle  de  rayons  brillans,  qui  annonce  la  presence 
de  I'Eternel." 


310  THE    FfUGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS. 

Here  Begrand,*  who  shines  in  this  scriptural  path, 

As  the  lovely  SusANNA,  without  ev'n  a  relic 
Of  drai)ery  round  lier,  comes  out  of  the  bath 

In  a  manner  that,  Bop.  says,  is  (piite  Kre-angelic  ! 
But  in  short,  dear,  't  would  take  me  a  month  to  recite 
All  the  exquisite  places  we  're  at,  day  and  night ; 
And,  besides,  ere  I  finish,  I  think  you'll  be  glad 
Just  to  hear  one  delightful  adventure  I've  had. 

Last  night,  at  the  Beaujon,t  a  place  where  —  I  doubt 
If  its  charms  I  can  paint  —  there  are  cars,  that  set 

out 
From  a  lighted  pavilion,  high  up  in  the  air,  [where. 
And   rattle   you   down   Doll  —  you  hardly   know 
These  vehicles,  mind  me,  in  which  you  go  through 
This  delightfully  dangerous  journey,  hold  two. 
Some  cavalier  asks,  with  humility,  whether 

You'll  venture  down  with  him  —  you  smile  —  'tis 

a  match ; 

In  an  instant  you're  seated,  and  down  both  together 

Go  thund'ring,  as  if  you  went  post  to  old  scratch  !  J 

"Well,  it  was  but  last  night,  as  I  stood  and  remark'd 

On  the  looks  and  odd  ways  of  the  girls  who  embark'd, 

*  Madame  B<?grand,  a  finely  formed  woman,  who  acts  in 
"  Susanna  and  the  Klders,"  —  "  L' Amour  et  la  Folie,"  etc.  etc. 

t  The  Promenades  Aeriennes,  or  French  Mountains.  —  Sec 
a  deRori]itii)n  of  this  singular  and  fantastic  place  of  amusement 
in  a  paniplilet  truly  worthy  of  it,  by  "  F.  F.  Cotterel.  M(5decin, 
Docteur  de  la  Faculte  de  Paris,"  etc.  etc. 

J  According  to  Dr.  Cotterel  the  cars  go  at  the  rate  of  forty- 
eight  miles  an  hour 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS.  311 

The  impatience  of  some  for  tlie  perilous  flight, 

The    forc'd    giggle    of  others,  'twixt  pleasure    and 

fright,  — 
That  there  came  up  —  imagine,  dear  Doll,  if  you 

can  — 
A  fine  sallow,  sublime,  sort  of  Werter-fac'd  man, 
With  mustachios   that  gave    (what  we  read  of  so 

oft) 
The  dear  Corsair  expression,  half  savage,  half  soft, 
As  Hyaenas  in  love  may  be  fancied  to  look,  or 
A  something  between  Abelard  and  old  Blucher  ! 
Up  he  came,  Doll,  to  me,  and,  uncovering  his  head, 
(Rather  bald,  but  so  warlike  !)  in  bad  English  said, 
"  Ah  !  my  dear  —  if  Ma'mselle  vil  be  so  very  good — 
Just  for  von  littel  course" —  though  I  scarce  under- 
stood 
"What  he  wish'd  me  to  do,  I  said,  thank  him,  I  would. 
Off  we  set — and  though  'faith,  dear,  I  hardly  knew 
whether 
My  head  or  my  heels  were  the  uppermost  then, 
For  'twas  like   heav'n  and  earth,  Dolly,  coming 
together,  — 
Yet,  spite  of  the  danger,  we  dar'd  it  again. 
And  oh  !  as  I  gaz'd  on  the  features  and  air 

Of  the  man,  who  for  me  all  this  peril  defied, 
I  could  fancy  almost  he  and  I  were  a  pair 

Of  unhappy  young  lovers,  who  thus,  side  by  side. 
Were  taking,  instead  of  rope,  pistol,  or  dagger,  a 
Desperate  dash  down  the  falls  of  Niagara  ! 


312  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS. 

This  achiev'd,  through  the  gardens  *  \vc  saunter'd 
about, 
Saw  the  lire-works,  cxckxim'd  "  maguitique  !  "  at 
each  cracker, 
And,    when    'twas    all  o'er,  the   dear    man  saw  us 
out 
"With  the  air  I  will  say,  of  a  Prince,  to  onv  Jiacre. 

Now,  hear  me  —  this  Stranger  —  it  may  be    mere 

lolly  — 
But  loho  do  you  think  we  all  think  it  is,  Dolly  ? 
Why,  bless  you,  no    less  than   the   great   King  of 

Prussia, 
Who 's  here  now  incog-t  —  he,  who   made  such  a 

fuss,  YOU 

Remember,  in   London,  with   Butcher  and   Pla- 

TOFF, 

When  Sal  was  near  kissing  old  Bluciier's  cravat 

off! 
Pa  says  he 's  come  here  to  look  after  his  money, 
(Not  taking  things  now  as  he  us'd  under  Boney,) 

*  III  the  Ciifc  attnclieJ  to  these  gardens  there  arc  to  be  (as 
Doctor  Cotlcrel  informs  us)  "douze  ii6gres,  tr6s-alertes,  qui  con- 
tnistcront  par  Tt'liene  de  leur  peau  avec  le  teint  de  lis  et  de 
roses  de,  nos  Ix'llos.  Les  ghiccs  et  les  sorbets,  servis  par  vine 
main  hien  noire,  fcra  davantage  ressortir  I'albatre  des  bras 
arrondis  de  cclles-ci."  —  P.  22. 

t  His  ninjesty,  wjio  was  at  Paris  under  tlic  travelling  name 
of  Count  Ruppin,  is  known  to  have  gone  down  tlie  Beaujon  very 
frequently. 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS.  313 

Which  suits  with  our  friend,  for  Bob  saw  him,  he 

swore. 
Looking  sharj)  to  the  silver  receiv'd  at  the  door. 
Besides,  too,  they  say  that  his  grief  for  his  Queen 
(Which  was  plain  in  this  sweet  fellow's  face  to  be 

seen) 
Requires  such  a  stimulant  dose  as  this  car  is, 
Us'd  thi-ee  times  a  day  with  young  ladies  in  Paris. 
Some  Doctor,  indeed,  has  declar'd  that  such  grief 
Should  —  unless  'twould    to  utter  despairing   its 
folly  push  — 
Fly  to  the  Beaujon,  and  there  seek  relief 

By  rattling,  as  Bob  says,  "  like  shot  through  a 
holly-bush." 

I  must  now  bid  adieu  ;  —  only  think,  Dolly,  think 
If  this  should  be  the  King  —  I  have  scarce  slept  a 

wink 
With  imagining  how  it  will  sound  in  the  papers, 

And  how  all  the  Misses  my  good  luck  will  grudge, 
When  they  read  that  Count  Ruppin,  to  drive  away 
vapours, 
Has  gone  down  the  Beaujon  with  Miss  Biddy 
Fudge. 

Nota  Bene.  —  Papa's  almost  certain  'tis  he  — 
For  he  knows  the  Legitimate  cut,  and  could  see. 
In  the  way  he  went  poising  and  manag'd  to  tower 
So  erect  in  the  car,  the  true  Balance  of  Power. 


314  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN"    PAKIS. 


LETTER   VI. 

FROM   rillL.    FUDGE,   ESQ.   TO   HIS    BROTHER    TI.M   FUDGE,    ESQ. 
B.VRRISTER    AT   LAW. 

Yours  of  the  12th  receiv'd  just  now  — 
Thanks  for  the  hint,  my  trusty  brother! 

'Tis  truly  pleasing  to  see  how 

AVe,  Fudges,  stand  by  one  anotlier. 

But  never  fear  —  I  know  my  eliap, 

And  he  knows  me  too  —  verhum  sap. 

My  Lord  and  I  are  kindred  spirits, 

Like  in  our  ways  as  two  young  ferrets; 

Both  fashion'd,  as  that  supple  raee  is, 

To  twist  into  all  sorts  of  places;  — 

Creatures  lengthy,  lean,  and  hungering, 

Fond  of  blood  and  burrow-u\on"(tv\n". 

As  to  my  Book  in  91, 

Call'd   "Down   with    Kings,  or.    Who'd   have 
thought  it  ?  " 
Bless  you,  the  Book's  long  dead  and  gone, — 

Not  ev'n  th'  Attorney-General  boujrht  it. 
And,  though  some  few  seditious  tricks 
I  play'd  in  II')  and  0, 
As  you  remind  me  in  your  letter. 
His  Lordship  likes  me  all  the  better;  — 
"We  proselytes,  that  come  with  news  full, 
Are,  as  he  says,  so  vastly  useful ! 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS.  315 

Reynolds  and  I —  (you  know  Tom  Reynolds — 

Drinks  his  claret,  keeps  his  chaise  — 
Lucky  the  dog  that  first  unkennels 

Traitors  and  Luddites  now-a-days ; 
Or  who  can  help  to  hag  a  few, 
"When  SiDMOUTH  wants  a  death  or  two ;) 
Reynolds  and  I,  and  some  few  more, 

All  men,  like  us,  of  information, 
Friends,  whom  his  Lordship  keeps  in  store, 

As  zmrfer-saviours  of  the  nation  —  * 
Have  form'd  a  Club  this  season,  where 
'    His  Lordship  sometimes  takes  the  chair, 
And  gives  us  many  a  bright  oration 
Li  praise  of  our  sublime  vocation  ; 
Tracing  it  up  to  great  King  Midas, 
Who,  though  in  fable  typified  as 
A  royal  Ass,  by  grace  divine 
And  right  of  ears,  most  asinine. 
Was  yet  no  more,  in  fact  historical, 

Than  an  exceeding  well-bred  tyrant ; 
And  these,  his  ears,  but  allegorical, 

Meaning  Informers,  kept  at  high  rent- — f 


*  Lord  C.'s  tribute  to  the  character  of  his  friend,  Mr.  Eey- 
nolds,  will  long  be  remembered  with  equal  credit  to  both. 

t  This  interpretation  of  the  fable  of  Midas's  ears  seems  th^ 
most  probable  of  any,  and  is  thus  stated  in  Hoflmann  :  —  "Hac 
allegoria  significatnm,  Midam,  utpote  tyrannum,  subausculta- 
tores  dimittere  solitum,  per  quos,  qusecunque  per  omnem  regio- 
nem  vel  fierent,  vel  dicerentur,  cognosceret,  nimirum  illis  utens 
aurium  vice." 


31G  THE    FUDGE    lAMILV    IX    I'AUIS. 

Gem'mcii,  avIio  touched  the  Treasury  glisteners, 
Like  u?,  for  being  trusty  listeners ; 
And  picking  up  each  tale  and  fragment, 
For  royal  Midas's  Green  Bag  meant. 
"  And  wherefore,"  said  this  best  of  Peers, 
"  Should  not  the  Regent  too  have  ears,* 
"  To  reach  as  far,  as  long  and  wide  as 
"  Those  of  his  model,  good  King  Midas  ?  " 
This  speech  was  thougiit  extremely  good, 
And  (rare  for  him)  was  understood  — 
Instant  we  drank  "The  Regent's  Ears," 
With  three  times  three  illustrious  cheers, 

"Which  made  the  room  resound  like  thunder  — 
"The  Regent's  Ears,  and  may  he  ne'er 
"  From  foolish  shame,  like  Midas,  wear 

"  Old  paltry  tvigs  to  keep  them  under  !  "  f 
This  touch  at  our  old  friends,  the  Whigs, 
Made  us  as  merry  all  as  grigs. 

•  Brossette,  in  a  note  on  this  line  of  Boileau, 

"  Midas,  le  Roi  Midas,  a  des  oreilles  d'Ane," 

tells  u?,  that  "  M.  Perranlt  le  Mc-decin  vonlut  faiie  a  notre  au- 
teur  nil  crime  d'otat  de  ce  vers,  comme  d'une  maligiic  allusion 
au  Roi."  I  trust,  however,  that  no  one  will  sUspect  the  line  in 
the  text  of  any  such  indecorous  allusion. 

•[■  It  was  not  under  wigs,  but  tiaras,  that  King  Midas  endeav- 
oured to  conceal  these  appendages :  — 

Tempora  purpureis  tcntat  velare  tiaris. 

Ovid. 

The  Noble  Giver  of  the  toast,  however,  had  evidenth',  with  his 
usual  clearness,  confounded  King  Midas,  Mr.  Listen,  and  the 
Prince  Regent  together. 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS.         ■       317 

In  short  (I'll  thank  you  not  to  mention 

These  things  again),  we  got  on  gaily ; 
And,  thanks  to  pension  and  Suspension, 

Our  little  Club  increases  daily. 
Castles,  and  Oliver,  and  such, 
"Who  do  n't  as  yet  full  salary  touch, 
Nor  keep  their  chaise  and  pair,  nor  buy 
Houses  and  lands,  like  Tom  and  I, 
Of  course  do'nt  rank  with  us,  salvators,* 
But  merely  serve  the  Club  as  waiters. 
Like  Knights,  too,  we've  our  collar  days, 
(For  us,  I  own,  an  awkward  jihrase,) 
"When,  in  our  new  costume  adorn'd,  — 
The  Regent's  buff-and-blue  coats  turn'd  — 
"We  have  the  honour  to  give  dinners 

To  the  chief  Rats  in  upper  stations  f  ; 
Your  W TS,  V NS,  —  half  fledg'd  sinners, 

"Who  shame  us  by  their  imitations  ; 
"Who  turn,  'tis  true  —  but  what  of  that? 
Give  me  the  useful  peaching  Rat ; 
N^ot  things  as  mute  as  Punch,  when  bought, 
Whose  wooden  heads  are  all  they  've  brought ; 
"Who,  false  enough  to  shirk  their  friends. 

But  too  faint-hearted  to  betray. 
Are,  after  all  their  twists  and  bends, 

But  souls  in  Limbo,  damn'd  half  way. 

*  Mr.  Fudge  and  his  fiiends  ought  to  go  by  this  name  —  as 
the  man  who,  some  years  since,  saved  the  late  Eight  Hon. 
George  Rose  from  drowning,  was  ever  tifter  called  Salvator  Eosa. 

t  This  intimacy  between  the  Eats  and  Informers  is  just  as  it 
should  be  —  "  ver^  dulce  sodalitium." 


318  Tnr,  lunr.E  family  i\  pauis. 

No,  no,  we  nol)ler  vciniin  are 
A  genus  useful  as  we're  i-are  ; 
'Midst  all  the  things  niiiaculoiis 

Of  which  your  natural  liislori(>s  brag, 
The  rarest  must  be  Kats  like  us. 

Who  let  the  cat  out  of  the  bag. 
Yet  still  these  Tyros  in  the  cause 
Deserve,  I  own,  no  small  applause ; 
And  they're  by  us  receiv'd  and  treated 
With  all  due  honours  —  only  seated 
In  th'  inverse  scale  of  their  reward, 
The  merely  promised  next  my  Lord  ; 
Small  pensions  then,  and  so  on,  down, 

Rat  after  rat,  they  graduate 
Through  job,  red  ribbon,  and  silk  gown, 

To  Chanc'llorship  and  Marquisate. 
This  serves  to  nurse  the  ratting  spirit ; 
The  less  the  bribe  the  more  the  merit. 

Our  music 's  good,  you  may  be  sure ; 
My  Lord,  you  know,  's  an  amateur  *  — 
Takes  every  part  with  perfect  ease, 

Tliough  to  the  Base  by  nature  suited ; 
And,  form'd  for  all,  as  best  may  please. 
For  whips  and  bolts,  or  chords  Jind  keys, 
Turns  from  his  victims  to  his  glees, 

And  has  them  both  well  executed,  f 

*  His  Lordship,  during  one  of  the  liusiest  periods  of  liis  Min- 
isterial career,  took  lessons  three  times  a  week  from  a  celebrated 
music-master,  in  jrlee-singing. 

t  How  .imply  these  two  propensities  of  the  Noble  Lord  would 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS.  319 

Hertford,  who,  tho'  no  Rat  himself, 

Delights  in  all  such  liberal  arts, 
Drinks  largely  to  the  House  of  Guelph, 

And  superintends  the  Corni  parts. 
While  Canning,*  who'd  hejirst  by  choice, 
Consents  to  take  an  tinder  voice ; 
And    Graves,  t   who  well  that  signal  knows, 
Watches  the  Volti  Subitos-X 

In  short,  as  I've  already  hinted. 

We  take,  of  late,  prodigiously ; 
But  as  our  Club  is  somewhat  stinted 

For  Gentlemen,  like  Tom  and  me, 
We'll  take  it  kind  if  you 'U  provide 
A  few  Squireens  §  from  't other  side  ;  — 
Some  of  those  loyal,  cunning  elves 

(We  often  tell  the  tale  with  laughter), 

have  been  gratified  among  that  ancient  people  of  Etruria,  who, 
as  Aristotle  tells  us.  used  to  whip  their  slaves  once  a  year  to  the 
sound  of  flutes ! 

*  This  Right  Hon.  Gentleman  ought  to  give  up  his  present 
alliance  with  Lord  C,  if  upon  no  other  principle  than  that  which 
is  inculcated  in  the  following  arrangement  between  two  Ladies 
of  Fashion :  — 

Says  Clarinda,  "  though  tears  it  may  cost, 
It  is  time  we  should  part,  my  dear  Sue; 
For  ymir  character's  totally  lost. 
And  /have  not  sufficient  for  tico  !  " 
I  The  rapidity  of  this  Noble   Lord's  transformation,  at  the 
same  instant,  into  a  Lord  of  the  Bed-chamber  and  an  opponent 
of  the  Catholic  Claims,  was  truly  miraculous. 

J    Turn  instantly  —  a  frequent  direction  in  music-boolts. 
§  The  Irish  diminutive  of  Squire. 


320  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PAKIS. 

Who  us'd  to  hide  the  pikes  tliemselves, 

Then  hang  the  fools  who  found  them  after. 
I  doubt  not  you  could  find  us,  too, 
Some  Orange  Pursons  that  might  do; 
Among  the  rest,  we've  heard  of  one, 
The  Reverend  —  something  —  Hamilton, 
Who  stuff'd  a  figure  of  himself 

(Delicious  thought !)  and  had  it  shot  at, 
To  bring  some  Papists  to  the  shelf,  * 

That  could  n't  otherwise  be  got  at  — 
K  he'll  but  join  the  Association, 
We'll  vote  him  in  by  acclamation. 

And  now,  my  brother,  guide,  and  friend, 
This  somewhat  tedious  scrawl  must  end. 
I've  gone  into  this  long  detail, 

Because  I  saw  your  nerves  were  shaken 
With  anxious  fears  lest  I  should  fail 

In  this  new,  hi/al,  coui'se  I've  taken. 
But,  bless  your  heart !  you  need  not  doubt  — 
We,  Fudges,  know  what  we're  about. 
Look  round,  and  say  if  you  can  see 
A  much  more  tliriving  family. 
There's  Jack,  the  Doctor  —  night  and  day 

Hundreds  of  patients  so  besiege  him, 
You'd  swear  that  all  the  rich  and  gay 

Fell  sick  on  purpose  to  oblige  him. 
And  while  they  think,  the  precious  ninnies. 

He's  counting  o'er  their  j)ulse  so  steady, 
The  rogue  but  counts  how  many  guineas 

He 's  fobb'd,  for  that  day's  work,  abeady. 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS.  321 

I'll  ne'er  forget  th'  old  maid's  alarm, 

When,  feeling  thus  Miss  Sukey  Flirt,  he 

Said,  as  he  dropp'd  her  slirivell'd  arm, 

"  Damn'd  bad  this  morning  —  only  thirty  ! " 


a 


Your  dowagers,  too,  every  one, 

So  gen'rous  are,  when  they  call  him  in, 
That  he  might  now  retii'e  upon 

The  rheumatisms  of  three  old  women. 
Then,  whatsoe'er  your  ailments  are, 

He  can  so  learnedly  explain  ye  'em  — 
Your  cold,  of  coarse,  is  a  catarrh, 

Your  headache  is  a  hemi-cranmm :  — 
His  skill,  too,  in  young  ladies'  lungs, 

The  grace  with  which,  most  mild  of  men, 
He  begs  them  to  put  out  their  tongues. 

Then  bids  them  —  put  them  in  again  : 
In  short,  there's  nothing  now  like  Jack  !  — 

Take  all  your  doctors  great  and  small, 
Of  present  times  and  ages  back, 

Dear  Doctor  Fudge  is  worth  them  all. 

So  much  for  physic  —  then,  in  law  too, 
Counsellor  Tim,  to  thee  we  bow ; 

Not  one  of  us  gives  more  eclat  to 

Th'  immortal  name  of  Fudge  than  thou. 

Not  to  expatiate  on  the  art 

With  which  you  play'd  the  patriot's  part, 

Till  something  good  and  snug  should  offer ;  - 
Like  one,  who,  by  the  way  he  acts 

VOL.  11.  21 


322  THE    FrDGK    family    IX    PARIS. 

Th'  cnllghfning  part  of  candle-snuffer, 

The  manager's  keen  eye  attracts, 
And  is  promoted  thence  by  him 
To  strut  in  robes,  Hke  thee,  my  Tim  !  — 
Who  shall  describe  thy  pow'rs  of  face, 
Thy  well  fee'd  zeal  in  eveiy  case. 
Or  wrong  or  right  —  but  ten  times  warmer 
(As  suits  thy  calling)  in  the  former  — 
Thy  glorious,  lawyer-like  delight 
In  puzzling  all  that's  clear  and  right, 
Which,  though  conspicuous  in  thy  youth. 

Improves  so  with  a  wig  and  band  on, 
That  all  thy  pride's  to  waylay  Truth, 

And  leave  her  not  a  leg  to  stand  on. 
Thy  patent,  prime,  morality,  — 

Thy  cases,  cited  from  the  Bible  — 
Thy  candour,  when  it  falls  to  thee 

To  help  in  trouncing  for  a  libel ;  — 
"  God  knows,  I,  from  my  soul,  profess 

"  To  hate  all  bigots  and  benijihters ! 
"  God  knows,  I  love,  to  ev'n  excess, 
"  The  sacred  Freedom  of  the  Press, 

"  My  only  aim's  to  —  crush  the  writers." 
These  are  the  virtues,  Tim,  that  draw 

The  briefs  into  thy  bag  so  fast ; 
And  these,  oh  Tim  —  if  Law  be  Law  — 

Will  raise  thee  to  the  Bench  at  last. 

I  blush  to  see  this  letter's  length  — 
But  'twas  my  wish  to  prove  to  thee 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS.  323 

How  full  of  hope,  and  wealth,  and  strength. 

Are  all  our  precious  family. 
And,  should  affairs  go  on  as  pleasant 
As,  thank  the  Fates,  they  do  at  present — ■ 
Should  we  but  still  enjoy  the  sway 
Of  SiDMOUTH  and  of  Castlereagh, 
I  hope,  ere  long,  to  see  the  day 
When  England's  wisest  statesmen,  judges, 
Lawyers,  peers,  will  all  be  —  Fudges  ! 

Good-bye  —  my  paper 's  out  so  nearly, 
I've  only  room  for  Youi'S  sincerely. 


LETTER  VII. 

FROM    PHELIM    CONNOR   TO  - 


Before  we  sketch  the  Present  —  let  us  cast 
A  few,  short,  rapid  glances  to  the  Past. 

"When  he,  who  had  defied  all  Europe's  strength. 

Beneath  his  own  weak  rashness  sunk  at  length ;  — 

"When,  loos'd,  as  if  by  magic,  from  a  chain 

That  seem'd  like  Fate's,  the  world  was  fi'ee  again, 

And  Europe  saw,  rejoicing  in  the  sight, 

The  cause  of  Kings, ybr  once,  the  cause  of  Right;  — 

Then  was,  indeed,  an  hour  of  joy  to  those 

"Who  sigh'd  for  justice  —  liberty  —  repose, 


324  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS. 

And  liop'd  the  fall  of  one  great  vulture's  nest 
Would  ring  its  warning  round,  and  scare  the  rest. 
All  tlicn  was  bright  with  promise;  —  Kings  began 
To  own  a  sympathy  with  suticring  IMan, 
And  Man  was  grateful ;  Patriots  of  the  South 
Caught  wisdom  from  a  Cossack  Emperor's  mouth, 
And  heard,  like  accents  thaw'd  in  Northern  air, 
Unwonted  words  of  freedom  burst  forth  there  ! 

Who  did  not  hope,  in  that  triumphant  time. 
When  nionarchs,  after  years  of  spoil  and  crime, 
Met  round  the  shrine  of  Peace,  and  Ileav'n  look'd 

on,  — 
Wlio  did  not  hope  the  lust  of  spoil  was  gone ; 
That  that  rapacious  spirit,  which  had  play'd 
The  game  of  Pilnitz  o'er  so  oft,  was  laid  ; 
And  I^urope's  Rulers,  conscious  of  the  past. 
Would  blush,  and  deviate  into  right  at  last  ? 
But  no  —  the  hearts,  that  nursed  a  hope  so  fair, 
Had  yet  to  learn  what  men  on  thrones  can  dare  ; 
Had  yet  to  know,  of  all  earth's  ravening  things, 
The  only  quite  untameable  are  Kings ! 
Scarce  had  they  met  when,  to  its  nature  true, 
The  instinct  of  their  race  broke  out  anew  ; 
Promises,  treaties,  charters,  all  were  vain, 
And  "  Rapine  !  rapine !  "  was  the  cry  again. 
How  (piick  they  carv'd  their  victims,  and  how  well, 
Let  Saxony,  let  injur'd  Genoa  tell ;  — 
Let  all  the  human  stock  that,  day  by  day, 
Was,  at  that  Royal  slave-mart,  truck'd  away,  — 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS.  325 

The  million  souls  that,  in  the  face  of  heaven, 
Were  split  to  fractions,*  barter'd,  sold,  or  given 
To  swell  some  despot  Power,  too  huge  before, 
And  weigh  down  Europe  with  one  Mammoth  more. 
How  safe  the  faith  of  Kings  let  France  decide  ;  — 
Her  charter  broken,  ere  its  ink  had  dried  ;  — 
Her  Press  enthrall'd  —  her  Reason  mock'd  again 
With  all  the  monkery  it  had  spurn'd  in  vain ; 
Her  crown  disgrac'd  by  one,  who  dar'd  to  own 
He  thank'd  not  France  but  England  for  his  tin-one ; 
Her  triumphs  cast  into  the  shade  by  those, 
Who  had  grown  old  among  her  bitterest  foes, 
And  now  return'd  beneath  her  conquerors'  shields. 
Unblushing  slaves  !  to  claim  her  heroes'  fields ; 
To  tread  down  every  trophy  of  her  fame, 
And  curse  that  glory  which  to  them  was  shame  !  — ■ 
Let  these  —  let  all  the  damning  deeds,  that  then 
Were  dar'd  through  Europe,  cry  aloud  to  men. 
With  voice  like  that  of  crashing  ice  that  rings 
Round  Alpine  huts,  the  perfidy  of  Kings ; 
And   tell   the    world,  when   hawks   shall   harmless 

bear 
The   shrinking  dove,  when  wolves   shall   learn    to 

spare 

*"  Whilst  the  Congi-ess  was  re-constructing  Europe  —  not 
according  to  rights,  natural  affiances,  language,  habits,  or  laws; 
but  by  tables  of  finance,  which  divided  and  subdivided  her  pop- 
ulation into  souls,  demi-souh,  and  even  fractions,  according  to  a 
scale  of  the  direct  duties  or  taxes,  which  could  be  levied  by  the 
acquiring  state,"  etc.  —  Sketch  of  the  Military  and  Political  Power 
of  Russia.     The  words  on  the  protocol  are  ames,  demi-ames,  etc. 


326  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS. 

The  helpless  victim  for  whose  blood  they  lusted, 
Then,  and  then  only,  monarchs  may  be  trusted. 

It  could  not  last  —  these  horrors  could  not  last  — 
France  would  herself  have  ris'n,  in  might,  to  cast 
Th'  insulters  off —  and  oli !  that  then,  as  now, 
Chain'd  to  some  distant  islet's  rocky  brow, 
Napoleon  ne'er  had  come  to  force,  to  blight, 
Ere  half  matur'd,  a  cause  so  proudly  bright ;  — 
To  palsy  patriot  arts  with  doubt  and  shame, 
And  Avrite  on  Freedom's  flag  a  despot's  name  ;  — 
To  rush  into  the  lists,  unask'd,  alone. 
And  make  the  stake  of  all  the  game  of  one  ! 
Then  would  the  world  have  seen  again  what  power 
A  people  can  put  forth  in  Freedom's  hour ; 
Then  would   the   fire  of  France   once   more  have 

blaz'd;  — 
For  every  single  sword,  reluctant  rais'd 
In  the  stale  cause  of  an  oppressive  throne, 
Millions  would  then  have  leap'd  forth  in  her  own ; 
And  never,  never  had  th'  unholy  stain 
Of  Bourbon  feet  disgrac'd  lier  shores  again. 


o 


But  fate  decreed  not  so  —  th'  Imperial  Bii-d, 
That,  in  his  ncigbouring  cage,  unfear'd,  imstirr'd, 
Had  seem'd  to  sleep  with  head  beneath  his  wing, 
Yet  watch'd  the  moment  for  a  daring  spring  ;  — 
Well  might  he  watch,  when  deeds  were  done,  that 


made 


His  own  transgressions  wliit(Mi  in  their  shade; 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY   IX    PARIS.  327 

Well  might  lie  hope  a  world,  thus  trampled  o'er 
By  clumsy  tyrants,  would  be  his  once  more :  — 
Forth  from  his  cage  the  eagle  burst  to  light, 
From  steeple  on  to  steeple  *  wing'd  his  flight, 
"With  calm  and  easy  grandeur,  to  that  throne 
From  which  a  Royal  craven  just  had  flown  ; 
And  resting  there,  as  in  his  a?rie,  furl'd 
Those  wings,  whose  very  rustling  shook  the  world ! 

"What  was  your  fury  then,  ye  crowu'd  array, 
"Whose  feast  of  spoil,  whose  plundering  holiday 
Was  thus  broke  up,  in  all  its  greedy  mirth, 
By  one  bold  chieftain's  stamp  on  Gallic  earth  ! 
Fierce  was  the  cry,  and  fulminant  the  ban,  — 
"  Assassinate,  who  will  —  enchain,  who  can, 
"  The  vile,  the  faithless,  outlaw'd,  low-born  man  I  " 
"  Faithless  !  "  —  and  this  from  you  —  from  you,  for- 
sooth, 
Ye  pious  Kings,  pure  paragons  of  truth. 
Whose  honesty  all  knew,  for  all  had  tried ; 
Whose  true  Swiss  zeal  had  serv'd  on  every  side ; 
Whose  fame  for  breaking  faith  so  long  was  known. 
Well  might  ye  claim  the  craft  as  all  your  own, 
And  lash  your  lordly  tails,  and  fume  to  see 
Such  low-born  apes  of  Royal  perfidy  ! 
Yes  —  yes  —  to  you  alone  did  it  belong  i 

To  sin  for  ever,  and  yet  ne'er  do  wrong.  —  : 

The  frauds,  the  lies  of  Lords  legitimate 
Are  but  fine  policy,  deep  strokes  of  state  ; 

*  "L'aigle  volera  de  clocher  en  clocher,  jusqu'aiix  tours  de 
Notre-Dame." — Napoleon's  Proclamation  on  landing  from  Elba. 


328  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PAKIS. 

But  let  some  upstart  dare  to  soar  so  high 

In  Kiiiijly  craft,  and  "outhi\v"is  the  cry! 

"Wliut.  tlioiigh  long  years  of  mutual  treachery 

Had  peopled  full  your  diplomatic  shelves 

With  ghosts  of  treaties,  murd^r'd  'mong  yourselves  ; 

Though  each  by  turns  was  knave  and  dujjc  —  what 

then  ? 
A  Holy  League  would  set  all  straight  again ; 
Like  Juno's  virtue,  which  a  dip  or  two 
In  some  bless'd  fountain  mad(!  as  good  as  new !  * 
Most  faithful  Russia  —  faithful  to  whoe'er 
Could  plunder  best,  and  give  him  amplest  share ; 
"Who,  ev'n  when  vanquish'd,  sure  to  gain  his  ends, 
For  Avant  of  foes  to  rob,  made  free  with  friends,^ 
And,  deepening  still  by  amiable  gradations, 
When  foes  Avcre  stript  of  all,  then  fleec'd  relations!  J 
Most  mild  and  saintly  Prussia  —  steep'd  to  th'  ears 
In  persecuted  Poland's  blood  and  tears, 
And  now,  with  all  her  harpy  wings  outspread 
O'er  sever'd  Saxony's  devoted  head ! 
Pure  Austria  too  —  whose  hist'ry  nought  repeats 
But  broken  leagues  and  subsidiz'd  defeats  ; 
Whose  faith,  as  Prince,  extinguisli'd  Venice  shows, 
Whose  failh,  as  man,  a  widow'd  daughter  knows! 
And  thou,  oh  England  —  who,  though  once  as  shy 
As  cloister'd  maids,  of  shame  or  perfidy, 

*  Singulis  aiiiii^  in  quodMiii  Attic;<^  foiite  Intii  virgiiiitatem 
recuperasse  fiiigitur. 

t  At  the  Peace  of  Tilsit,  where  he  nliiUKloiieii  liis  ally,  Prussia, 
to  France,  and  received  a  iiortion  of  lier  territory. 

J.  The  seizure  of  Finland  from  iiis  relative  of  Sweden. 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    FARIS.  329 

Art  now  h-oke  in,  and,  thanks  to  Castlereagh, 
In  all  that's  worst  and  falsest  lead'st  the  way  ! 

Such  was  the  pure  divan,  whose  pens  and  Avits, 

Th'  escape  from  Elba  frighten'd  into  fits  ;  — 

Such  were    the   saints,   who   dooni'd   Napoleon's 

lifej 
In  virtuous  frenzy,  to  th'  assassin's  knife. 
Disgusting  crew!  —  who  would  not  gladly  fly 
To  open,  downright,  bold-fac'd  tyranny. 
To  honest  guilt,  that  dares  do  all  but  lie, 
From  the  false,  juggling  craft  of  men  like  these, 
Their  canting  crimes  and  varnish'd  villanies  ;  — 
These  Holy  Leaguers,  who  then  loudest  boast 
Of  faith  and  honour,  when  they've   stain'd   them 

most ; 
From  whose  affection  men  should  shrink  as  loath 
As  from  their  hate,  for  they'll  be  fleec'd  by  both ; 
Who,  ev'n  while  plund'ring,  forge  Religion's  name 
To  frank  their  spoil,  and,  without  fear  or  shame, 
Call  down  the  Holy  Trinity  *  to  bless 
Partition  leagues,  and  deeds  of  devilishness ! 


*  The  usual  preamble  of  these  flagitious  compacts.  In  the 
same  spirit,  Catherine,  after  the  dreadful  massacre  of  Warsaw, 
ordered  a  solemn  "thanksgiving  to  God  in  all  the  churches,  for 
the  blessings  conferred  upon  the  Poles;"  and  commanded  that 
each  of  them  should  "  swear  fidelity  and  loyalt}-  to  her,  aud  to 
shed  in  her  defence  the  last  drop  of  their  blood,  as  they  should 
answer  for  it  to  God,  and  his  terrible  judgment,  kissing  the  holy 
"word  and  cross  of  their  Saviour!  " 


330  TIIK    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS. 

But  lioM  —  cnougli  —  soon  wouM  tliis  swell  of  rage 
O'eriiow  tlie  boundaries  of  my  seanty  page  ;  — 
So,  here  I  pause  —  farewell  —  another  day, 
Return  we  to  those  Lords  of  pray'r  and  prey, 
Whose  loathsome  cant,  whose  frauds  by  right  divine 
Deserve  a  lash  —  oh  !  weightier  far  than  mine  ! 


LETTER    VIII. 

TROM    MU.   BpB   FUDGE  TO   KICHAKD ,   ESQ. 

Dear  Dick,  while  old  Donaldson's*  mending 

my  stays,  — 
Which  I  knew  would  go  smash  with  me  one  of  these 

days. 
And,  at  yesterday's  dinner,  when,  full  to  the  throttle. 
We  lads  had  begun  our  dessert  with  a  bottle 
Of  neat  old  Constanlia,  on  my  leaning  back 
Just  to  order  another,  by  Jove  I  went  crack !  — 
Or,  as  honest  Tom  said,  in  his  nautical  phrase, 
"D — n  my  eyes,  Bob,  m  doubling  i\\Q  Cape  youWe 

miss'd  stays."  f 
So,  of  course,  as  no  gentleman's  seen  out  without 

them, 
They're  now  at  the  Schneider's  J  —  and,  while  he's 

about  them, 

*  An  English  tailor  at  Paris. 

t  A  ship  is  said  to  miss  staj-s,  when  she  does  not  obey  the 
helm  in  tacking. 

t  The  dandy  term  for  a  tailor. 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY   IN    PARIS.  331 

Here  goes  for  a  letter,  post-haste,  neck  and  crop. 
Let  us  see  —  in  my  last  I  was  —  where  did  I  stop  ? 
Oh,  I  know  —  at  the  Boulevards,  as  motley  a  road  as 

Man  ever  would  wish  a  day's  lounging  upon  ; 
"With  its  cafes  and  gardens,  hotels  and  pagodas, 
Its  founts,  and  old  Counts  sipping  beer  in  the 
sun: 
With  its  houses  of  all  architectures  you  please, 
From  the  Grecian  and  Gothic,  Dick,  down  by  de- 
grees 
To  the  pure  Hottentot,  or  the  Brighton  Chinese  ; 
Where   in  temples   antique  you  may  breakfast  or 

dinner  it, 
Lunch  at  a  mosque,  and  see  Punch  from  a  minaret. 
Then,  Dick,  the  mixture  of  bonnets  and  bowers, 
Of  foliage  and  frippery,  jiacres  and  flowers. 
Green-grocers,  green  gardens  —  one  hardly  knows 

whether 
'Tis  country  or  town,  they're  so  mess'd  up  together! 
And  there,  if  one  loves  the  romantic,  one  sees 
Jew  clothes-men,  like  shepherds,  reclin'd  under  trees  ; 
Or  Quidnuncs,  on  Sunday,  just  fresh  from  the  bar- 
ber's, 
Enjoying  their  news  and  groseille  *  in  those  arbours; 

*  "  Lemonade  and  eau-de-groseilk  are  measured  out  at  every 
corner  of  cverj-  street,  from  fantastic  vessels  jingling  wich  bells 
to  thirsty  tradesmen  or  wearied  messengers." — See  Lady  Mor- 
gan's lively  description  of  the  streets  of  Paris,  in  her  very  amus- 
ing work  upon  France,  book  vi. 


332  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS. 

While  gailj  (heir  wigs,  like  the  tendrils,  are  curling, 
And  founts  of  red  curnint-juice  *  round  them  are 
})urling. 

Here,  Dick,  arm  in  arm  as  we  chattering  stray, 
And  receive  a  few  civil  "  God-dems  "  by  the  way, — 
For,   'tis    odd,   these   mounseers,  —  though    we've 

wasted  our  wealth 
And  our  strength,  till  we've  thrown  ourschos  into 

a  phthisic,  [health, 

To  cram  down  their  throats  an  old  King  for  their 

As  we   whip  little  children  to  make   them  take 

physic ;  — 
Yet,  spite  of  our  good-natur'd  money  and  slaughter. 
They  hate  us,  as  Beelzebub  hates  holy-water ! 
But  who  the    deuce  cares,  Dick,  as  long  as  they 

nourish  us 
Neatly  as  now,  and  good  cookery  flourishes  — 
Long  as,  by  bay'nets  protected,  we,  Natties, 
May  have  our  full  fling  at  their  sahnis  and  pates  ? 
And,  truly,  I  always  deelar'd  'twould  be  pity 
To  burn  to  the  ground  such  a  choice-feeding  city. 
Had  J)<id  but  his  wav,  he'd  have  Ion;];  ajjo  blown 
The  whole  batch  to  old  Nick  —  and  the  people,  I  own, 
If  for  no  other  cause  than  their  curst  monkey  looks, 
Well  deserve  a  blow-up  —  but  then,  damn  it,  their 

Cooks ! 

*  These  gay,  portable  fountains,  from  which  the  groseille 
water  is  administered,  are  among  the  most  characteristic  orna- 
ments of  the  streets  of  Paris. 


THE   FUDGE    FAMILY   IX    PARIS.  333 

As  to  Marshals,  and  Statesmen,  and  all  their  whole 
lineage, 

For  aught  that  /care,  you  may  knock  them  to  spi- 
nage ; 

But  think,  Dick,  their  Cooks  —  what  a  loss  to  man- 
kind! 

What  a  void  in  the  world  would  their  art  leave  be- 
hind ! 

Their   chronometer  spits  —  their  intense  salaman- 
ders — 

Their  ovens  —  their  pots,  that  can  soften  old  ganders, 

All  vanish'd  for  ever  —  their  miracles  o'er, 

And  the  Marmite  Perpetuelle  *  bubbling  no  more ! 

Forbid  it,  forbid  it,  ye  Holy  AlUes ! 

Take   whatever  ye   fancy  —  take   statues,  take 
money  — 

But   leave  them,  oh  leave  them,  their  Perigueux 
pies. 
Their    glorious   goose-livers,  and    high    pickled 
tunny !  f 

Though  many,  I  own,  are  the  evils  they've  brought 
us. 
Though  Royalty 's  here  on  her  very  last  legs, 

*  "  Cette  merveilleuse  ^larmite  Perpetuelle,  sur  le  feu  depuis 
pr6s  d'uu  siecle;  qui  a  donn^  le  jour  a  plus  de  300,000  chapons." 
—  Alnian.  de  Goui-rnands,  Quatrieme  Ann^c,  p.  152. 

t  Le  tlion  marine,  one  of  the  most  favourite  and  indigestible 
hors  d'aiivres.  This  fish  is  taken  chiefly  in  the  Golfe  de  Lyon. 
"  La  tOte  et  le  dessous  du  ventre  sont  les  parties  les  plus  recher- 
ch(5es  des  gourmets."  —  Cours  Gasironomique,  p.  252. 


334  THE    FLDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS. 

Yet,  who  can  help  loving  the  land  that  has  talight  us 
Six  hundred  and  eighty-five  ways  to  dress  eggs  ?  * 

You  see,  Dick,  in  spite  of  their  cries  of  "  God-dam," 
"  Cocjuin  Anglais,"  et  cajt'ra  —  how  generous  I  am  ! 
And  now  (to  return,  once  again,  to  my  "  Day." 
Which  will  take  us  all  night  to  get  through  in  this 

way,) 
From  the  Boulevards  we  saunter  througli  many  a 

street, 
Crack  jokes  on  the  natives  —  mine,  all  very  neat  — 
Leave  the  Signs  of  the  Times  to  political  fops, 
And  find  twice  as  much  fun  in  the   Signs   of  the 

Shops ; — 
Here,  a  Louis  Dix-huit  —  there,  a  Martinmas  goose, 
(Much  in  vogue  since  your  eagles  are  gone  out  of 

use)  — 
Henri  Quatres  in  shoals,  and  of  Gods  a  great  many, 
But  Saints  are  the  most  on  hard  duty  of  any :  — 
St.  Tony,  who  used  all  temptations  to  spurn, 
Here  hangs  o'er  a  beer-shop,  and  tempts  in  his  turn ; 
While  there  St.  Venecia  f  sits  hemming  and  frilling 

her 
Holy  mouchoir  o'er  the  door  of  some  milliner  ;  — 

*  The  exact  number  mentioned  by  M.  de  la  Re3'ni^re  — "  On 
connoit  en  France  685  municres  diflVrciites  d'accomnioder  les 
ceufs;  sans  compter  celles  que  nos  savans  imaginent  charjue 
jour." 

t  Veronica,  the  Saint  of  the  Holy  Ilaiidlcercliief,  is  also, 
under  tlie  name  of  Yenisse  or  Venecia,  the  tutelary  saint  of 
milliners. 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS.  335 

8Tiint  Austin  's  the  "  outward  and  visible  sign 

"  Of  an  inward "   cheap  dinner,  and   pint  of  small 

wine  ; 
Wliile  St.  Dexys  hangs  out  o'er  some  hatter  of  ton, 
And  possessing,  good  bishop,  no  head  of  his  own,* 
Takes  an  int'rest  in  Dandies,  who've  got — next  to 

none ! 
Then  we  stare  into  shops  —  read  the  evening's  af- 

Jiches  — 
Or,  if  some,  who 're  Lotharios  in  feeding,    should 

wish 
Just  to  flirt  with  a  luncheon,  (a  devilish  bad  trick, 
As  it  takes  off  the  bloom  of  one's  appetite,  Dick,) 
To  the  Passage  des  —  what  d'  ye  call 't  —  des  Pano- 
ramas t 
We  quicken  our  pace,  and  there  heartily  cram  as 
Seducing  young  pates,  as  ever  could  cozen 
One  out  of  one's  appetite,  down  by  the  dozen. 
We  vary,  of  course  — petits  pates  do  one  day. 
The  next  we've  our  lunch  with  the  Gauffrier  Hol- 

landais,  J 
That  popular  artist,  who  brings  out,  like  Scott, 
His  delightful  productions  so  quick,  hot  and  hot ; 


*  St.  Benys  walked  tlu-ee  miles  after  his  head  was  cut  off. 
The  viot  of  a  woman  of  ■«'it  upon  tliis  legend  is  well  known :  — 
"  Je  le  crois  bien;  en  pareil  cas,  il  n'y  a  que  le  premier  pas  qui 
coute." 

t   Off  the  Boulevards  Italiens. 

X  In  the  Palais  Eoyal;  successor,  I  believe,  to  the  Flamand, 
so  long  celebrated  for  the  moelleux  of  his  Gaufres. 


336  TIIK    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PAKIS. 

Not  the  worse  for  the  exquisite  comment  that  fol- 
lows, — 

Divine  inarcsquino,  which  —  Lord,  how  one  swal- 
lows ! 

Once  moi'e,  then,  we  saunter  forth  after  our  snack,  or 
Subscribe  a  few  francs  for  tlie  })rice  of  njiao-e, 
And  drive  far  away  to  the  old  Montagues  Russes, 
Where  we  find  a  few  twirls  in  the  car  of  much  use 
To  regen'rate  tlie  hunger  and  thirst  of  us  sinners, 
Who've  laps'd  into  snacks  —  the  perdition  of  dinners. 
And  hei-e,  Dick  —  in  answer  to  one  of  your  queries, 

About  which   we.  Gourmands,  have   had   much 
discussion  — 
I've  tried  all  these  mountains,  Swiss,  French,  and 
Ruggieri's, 

And  think,  for  digestion,*  there's  none  like  the 
Russian ; 
So  equal  the  motion  —  so  gentle,  though  fleet  — 

It,  in  short,  such  a  light  and  salubrious  scamper  is, 


*  Doctor  Cotterel  recommends,  for  this  purjio^e,  the  Beaujon 
or  French  Mountains,  and  calls  them  "  une  niedecine  aerienne, 
couleur  de  rose; "  but  I  own  I  prefer  the  authority  of  Mr.  Bob, 
who  seems,  from  the  following  note  found  in  his  own  hand-writ- 
ing, to  have  studied  all  these  mountains  very  carefully:  — 
Memoramla  —  The  Swiss  little  notice  deserves, 
While  the  fall  at  Ruggieri's  is  death  to  weak  nerves ; 
And  (whate'cr  Doctor  Cott'rel  may  write  on  the  question) 
The  turn  at  the  Beaujon 's  too  sharp  for  digestion. 

I  doubt  whether  Mr.  Bob  is  quite  correct  in  accenting  the  second 
syllable  of  Euggieri. 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS.  337 

That  take  whom  you  please  —  take  old  Louis  Dix- 

HUIT, 

And  stuff  him  —  ay,  up  to  the  neck  —  with  stew'd 

lampreys,* 
So  wholesome   these   Mounts,  such  a   solvent   I've 

found  them, 
That,  let  me  but  rattle  the  Monarch  well  down  them,. 
The  fiend.  Indigestion,  would  fly  far  away. 
And  the  regicide  lampreys  f  be  foiled  of  their  prey !' 
Such,  Dick,  are  the  classical  sports  that  content  us. 
Till  five  o'  clock  brings  on  that  hour  so  momentous,  | 

*  A  dish  so  indigestible,  that  a  late  novelist,  at  the  end  of  his 
book,  could  imagine  no  more  summary  mode  of  getting  rid  of 
all  his  heroes  and  heroines  than  by  a  heart}'  supper  of  stewed 
lampreys. 

t  They  killed  Henry  I.  of  England :  —  "a  food  (says  Hume, 
gravely,)  which  always  agi-eed  better  with  his  palate  th.^ii  his 
constitution." 

Lampreys,  indeed,  seem  to  have  been  always  a  favourite  dish 
■with  kings  —  whether  from  some  congeniality  between  them  and 
that  fish,  I  know  not;  but  Dio  Cassius  tells  us  that  Pollio  fattened 
his  lampreys  with  human  blood.  St.  Louis  of  France  was  par- 
ticularly fond  of  them. —  See  the  anecdote  of  Thomas  Aquinas 
eating  up  his  majesty's  lamprey,  in  a  note  upon  Rabdais,  liv.  iii. 
chap.  2. 

X  Had  !Mr.  Bob's  Dinner  Epistle  been  inserted,  I  was  prepared 
with  an  abundance  of  learned  matter  to  illustrate  it,  for  which, 
as,  indeed,  for  all  my"scientia  popinse,"  i  I  am  indebted  to  a 
friend  in  the  Dublin  University,  —  whose  reading  formerly  lay 
in  the  mayic  line;  but,  in  consequence  of  the  Provost's  en- 
lightened alarm  at  such  studies,  he  has  taken  to  the  authors, 
"  rfe  re  cibaria"  instead;  and  has  left  Bod'm,  Eemigms,  Arjrippa 
and  his  little  dog  FUiolus,  for  Apicim,  Nonius,  and  that  uiost 
learned  and  savoury  Jesuit,  Bulengerus. 
'  1  Seneca. 

VOL.  ji.  22 


338  Tni-:  fudge  family  ix  tauis. 

That  epocli Imt  woa  !  my  lad  —  here  comes  the 

Schneider,  [wider  — 

And,  curse  him,  has  made  the  stays  tliree    inches 

Too  wide  by  an  inch  and  a  half —  what  a  Guy  ! 

But,  no  matter — 'twill  all  be  set  right  by-and-by. 

As  we've  Massinot's  *  eloquent  carte  to  eat  still  up, 

An  inch  and  a  half's  but  a  trifle  to  fill  up. 

So  —  not  to  lose  time,  Dick  —  here  goes  for  the 
task ; 

Aurevoir,  my  old  boy  —  of  the  Gods  I  but  ask, 

Tliat  my  life,  like  "  the  Leap  of  the  German,"  f  may 
be, 

"  Du  lit  a  la  table,  d'la  table  au  lit ! " 


LETTER    IX. 

FROM  PHIL.    FUDGE,   ESQ.   TO  THE   LORD    VISCOIJXT 
CASTLEREAGH. 

My  Lord,  th'  Listructions,  brought  to-day,  ' 
"  I  shall  in  all  my  best  obey." 
Your  Lordship  talks  and  writes  so  sensibly ! 
And  —  whatsoe'er  some  Avags  may  say  — 
Oil !  not  at  all  incomprehensibly. 


t   A  famous  'RpstannUcnir  —  now  Dnpont. 
•  An  old  riT'iich  suyiiijr;  —  "  Faire  le  saut  de  I'Allemand,  du 
lit  k  la  table  et  de  hi  table  au  lit." 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS.  339 

I  feel  til'  inquiries  in  your  letter 

About  my  health  and  French  most  flattering ; 
Thank  ye,  my  French,  though  somewiiat  better, 

Is,  on  the  whole,  but  weak  and  smattermg :  — 
Nothing,  of  course,  that  can  compare 
With  his  who  made  the  Congress  stare 
(A  certain  Lord  we  need  not  name), 

"Who  ev'n  in  French,  would  have  his  trojje, 
And  talk  of  "■  batir  un  systeme 

"  Sur  V equiUbre  de  I'E^urope  !  " 
Sweet  metaphor  !  —  and  then  th'  Epistle, 
Which  bid  the  Saxon  King  go  whistle,  — 
That  tender  letter  to  "  Mon  Prince,"  * 
Which  show'd  alike  thy  French  and  sense  ;  — 
Oh  no,  my  Lord  —  there  's  none  can  do 
Or  say  im-EngUsh  things  like  you  ; 
And,  if  the  schemes  that  fill  thy  breast 

Could  but  a  vent  congenial  seek, 
And  use  the  tongue  that  suits  them  best, 

What  charming  Turkish  would'st  thou  speak ! 
But  as  for  me,  a  Frenchless  grub. 

At  Congress  never  born  to  stammer. 
Nor  learn  like  thee,  my  Lord,  to  snub 

Fall'u  Monarchs,  out  of  Chambaud's  grammar — • 


*  The  celebrated  letter  to  Prince  Hardenburgh  (written,  how- 
ever, I  believe,  originally  in  English,)  in  which  his  Lordship, 
professing  to  see  "no  moral  or  political  objection"  to  the  dis- 
memberraeiit  of  Saxony,  denounced  the  unfortunate  King  as 
"not  only  the  most  devoted,  but  the  most  favoured  of  Bona- 
parte's vassals." 


340  TIIK    FLDGi:    FAMILY    IN    PARIS. 

Bless  you,  you  do  not,  cannot  know 
How  far  a  little  French  will  go  ; 
For  all  one's  stock,  one  need  but  draw 

On  some  half-dozen  words  like  these  — 
•  Comme  ga — par-la  —  la-has — all  ha! 

They  '11  take  you  all  through  France  with  ease. 

Your  Lordship's  praises  of  the  scraps 

I  sent  you  from  my  Journal  lately, 
(Enveloping  a  few  lac'd  caps 

For  Lady  C),  delight  me  greatly. 
Her  flattering  speech  —  "  What  pretty  things 

"  One  finds  in  Mr.  Fudge's  pages ! " 
Is  praise  which  (as  some  poet  sings) 

Would  pay  one  for  the  toils  of  ages. 

Thus  flatter'd,  I  presume  to  send 
A  few  more  extracts  by  a  friend ; 
And  I  should  hope  they'll  be  no  less 
Approv'd  of  than  my  last  MvS.  — 
The  former  ones,  I  fear,  were  creas'd, 

As  Biddy  round  the  caps  icoidd  pin  them  ; 
But  these  will  come  to  hand,  at  least 

Unrumpled,  for  there's  —  nothing  in  them. 


THE   FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS.  341 


Extracts  from  Mr.  FuJijc's  Journal,  addressed  to  Lord  C. 

Aug.  10. 
"Went  to  the  Mad-house  —  saw  the  man,* 

Who  thinks,  poor  wretch,  that,  while  the  Fiend 
Of  Discord  here  full  riot  ran, 

lie,  like  the  rest,  was  guillotin'd  ;  — 
But  that  when,  under  Boney's  reign, 

(A  more  discreet,  though  quite  as  strong  one,) 
The  heads  were  all  restor'd  again. 

He,  in  the  scramble,  got  a  wrong  one. 
Accordingly,  he  still  cries  out 

This  strange  head  fits  him  most  unpleasantly; 
And  always  runs,  poor  dev'l,  about, 

Inquiring  for  his  own  incessantly ! 

While  to  his  case  a  tear  I  dropt. 

And  saunter'd  home,  thought  I  —  ye  Gods! 
How  many  heads  might  thus  be  swopp'd, 

And,  after  all,  not  make  much  odds ! 
For  instance,  there's  Vansittart's  head  — 
("  Tam  canim  "  f  it  may  well  be  said) 
If  by  some  curious  chance  it  came 

*  This  extraordinaiy  madman,  is,  I  believe,  in  the  BicC-tre. 
He  imagines,  exactly  as  Jlr.  Fudge  states  it,  that,  when  the 
heads  of  those  who  had  been  guillotined  were  restored,  he  by 
mistake  got  some  other  person's  instead  of  his  own. 

t  Tam  carl  capitis.  —  Horat. 


342  TIIK    rUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PAIJIS. 

To  settle  on  Bill  Soamks's  *  shoulders, 
Til'  cH'cct  would  turn  out  much  the  same, 

On  all  respectable  cash-holders : 
Except  that  while,  in  its  neto  socket, 

The  head  was  planning  schemes  to  win 
A  zig-zag  way  into  one's  pocket, 

The  hands  w^ould  plunge  directly  in. 

Good  Viscount  Sidmouth,  too,  instead 
Of  his  own  grave,  respected  head, 
Might  wear  (for  aught  I  see  that  bars) 

Old  Lady  "Wiliielmina  Fuump's  — 
So  while  the  hand  sign'd  Circulars, 

The  head  might  lisp  out  "What  is  trumps?"- 
The  Regent's  brains  could  Ave  transfer 
To  some  robust  man-milliner, 
Tlie  shop,  the  shears,  the  lace,  and  ribbon 
Would  go,  I  doubt  not,  quite  as  glib  on ; 
And,  vice  versa,  take  the  pains 
To  give  the  Prince  the  shopman's  brains, 
One  only  change  from  thence  would  flow, 
Jiibbuns  would  not  be  wasted  so. 

'Twas  thus  I  ponder'd  on,  my  Lord  ; 

And,  ev'n  at  night,  when  laid  in  bed, 
I  found  myself,  before  I  snor'd, 

Thus  chopping,  swopping  head  for  head. 

*  A  celebrated  pickpocket. 


THE   FUDGE    FAMILY   IX    PARIS.  343 

At  length  I  thought,  fmitastic  elf! 
How  such  a  change  would  suit  myself. 
'Twixt  sleep  and  waking,  one  by  one, 

With  various  pericraniums  saddled, 
At  last  I  tried  your  Lordship's  on, 

And  then  I  grew  completely  addled  — 
Forgot  all  other  heads,  od  rot  'em ! 
And  slept,  and  dreamt  that  I  was  —  Bottom. 

Aug.  21. 
Walk'd  out  with  daughter  Bid — was  shown 
The  House  of  Commons,  and  the  Throne, 
"VThose  velvet  cushion 's  just  the  same  * 
Kapoleox  sat  on  —  what  a  shame  ! 
Oh,  can  we  wonder,  best  of  sijeechers, 

AVhen  Louis  seated  thus  we  see, 
That  France's  "  fundamental  features" 

Are  much  the  same  they  us'd  to  be  ? 
However,  —  God  preserve  the  Throne, 

And  cushion  too — and  keep  them  free 
From  accidents,  Avhich  hare  been  known 

To  happen  ev'n  to  Royalty  If 

*  The  only  change,  if  I  recollect  right,  is  the  substitution  of 
lilies  for  bees.  This  war  upon  the  bees  is,  of  course,  universal ; 
"exitiura  misere  apibus,"  like  the  angry  nymphs  in  Virgil:  — 
but  may  not  new  swarms  arise  out  of  the  licilms  of  Legitimacj' 
yet? 

t  I  am  afraid  that  Jlr.  Fudge  alludes  here  to  a  very  awkward 
accident,  which  is  well  known  to  have  happened  to  poor  Louis 
le  Desire,  some  years  since,  at  one  of  the  Regent's  Fetes.  Ho 
was  sitting  next  our  gracious  Queen  at  the  time. 


344  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY   IN    PARIS. 

Aug.  28. 
Read,  at  a  stall  (for  oft  ono  pops 
On  something  at  these  stalls  and  shoj)s, 
That  does  to  quote,  and  gives  one's  Book 
A  classical  and  knowing  look.  — 
Indeed  I've  found,  in  Latin,  lately, 
A  course  of  stalls  im})roves  me  greatly)  — 
'Twas  thus  I  read,  that,  in  the  East, 

A  monarch's ya^'s  a  serious  matter; 
And  once  in  every  year,  at  least. 

He's  weigh'd  —  to  see  if  he  gets  fatter;,* 
Then,  if  a  pound  or  two  he  be 
Increas'd,  there's  quite  a  jubilee  !  f 
Suppose,  my  Lord  —  and  far  from  me 
To  treat  such  things  with  levity  — 
But  just  suppose  the  Rkgkn't's  weight 
Were  made  thus  an  affair  of  state  ; 
And,  ev'ry  sessions,  at  the  close, — 

'Stead  of  a  speech,  which,  all  can  see,  is 
Heavy  and  dull  enough,  God  knows  — 

We  were  to  try  how  heavy  he  is. 

*  "Tlie  third  day  of  the  Feast  the  King  cauisetli  himself  to  be 
■weighed  with  great  care."  —  F.  Beri>i\'r''s  Vuijfiye  to  Si/rnt,  etc. 

t  "  I  remember,"  says  Bernier,  "  that  all  the  Omralis  expressed 
great  joy  that  the  King  weighed  two  pounds  more  now  than  the 
year  preceding."  —  Another  author  tells  us  that  "Fatness,  as 
■well  as  a  very  large  head,  is  considered,  throughout  India,  as 
one  of  the  most  precious  gifts  of  heaven.  An  enormous  skull  is 
absolutely  revered,  and  the  happ\-  owner  is  looked  up  to  as  a 
superior  being.  To  a  Prime  a  joulter  head  is  invaluable."  — 
Oriental  Fitld  Sjio)-is. 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS.  345 

Much  would  it  glad  all  hearts  to  hear 

That,  while  the  xSation's  Revenue 
Loses  so  many  pounds  a  year, 

The  Prince,  God  bless  him  I  gains  a  few. 

With  bales  of  muslin,  chintzes,  spices, 

I  see  the  Easterns  weigh  their  Kings  ;  — 
But,  for  the  Regent,  my  advice  is, 

"We  should  throw  in  much  heavier  things  : 
For  instance  's  quarto  volumes, 

"Wliich,  though  not  spices,  serve  to  wrap  them ; 
Dominie  St — dd — t's  Daily  columns, 

"  Prodigious !  " —  in,  of  course,  we'd  clap  them  — 
Letters,  that  Cartavright's  *  pen  indites, 

In  which,  with  logical  confusion. 
The  Major  like  a  Minor  writes, 

And  never  comes  to  a  Conclusion :  — 
Lord  SoMERs'  pamphlet  —  or  his  head  — 
(Ah,  that  were  worth  its  weight  in  lead !) 
Along  with  which  we  in  may  whip,  sly. 
The  Speeches  of  Sir  John  Cox  Hippisly  ; 
That  Baronet  of  many  words, 
Who  loves  so,  in  the  House  of  Lords, 
To  whisjier  Bishops  —  and  so  nigh 

Unto  their  wigs  in  whisp'ring  goes, 
That  you  may  always  know  him  by 

A  patch  of  powder  on  his  nose  !  — 
If  this  wo'n't  do,  we  in  must  cram 
The  "  Reasons  "  of  Lord  Buckingham  ; 

*  Major  Cartwright. 


34G  TIIK    FUDGK    FAMILY    IX    PAUIS. 

(A  Book  his  Lortlship  means  to  write, 

Entitled  "  Reasons  for  my  Ratting :  ") 
Or,  should  these  prove  too  small  and  light. 

His  r p's  a  host  —  we'll  bundle  that  iu! 

And,  still  should  all  these  masses  fail 
To  stir  the  Regent's  ponderous  scale, 
Why  then,  my  Lord,  in  heaven's  name, 

Pitch  in,  without  reserve  or  stint. 
The  whole  of  R — GL — y's  beauteous  Dame  — 

li that  wo' n't  raise  him,  devil's  in  it! 

Aug.  31. 
Consulted  Murphy's  Tacitus 

About  those  famous  spies  at  Rome,  * 
Whom  certain  Wliigs  —  to  make  a  fuss  — 
Describe  as  much  resembling  us,t 

Informing  gentlemen,  at  home. 
But,  bless  the  fools,  they  can  H  be  serious, 
To  say  Lord  Sidmouth's  like  Tiberius! 
What !  he,  the  Peer,  that  injures  no  man, 
Like  that  severe,  blood-thirsty  Roman  I  — 
'Tis  true,  the  Tyrant  lent  an  ear  to' 
All  sorts  of  spies  —  so  doth  the  Peer,  too. 

*  The  name  of  the  first  worthy  who  set  up  the  trade  of  iu- 
former  at  Rome  (to  whom  our  Olivers  and  Castlesses  ought  to 
erect  a  statue)  was  Romanus  Hispo;  —  "qui  formam  vitse  iniit, 
quam  postca  cclebrem  miseria^  temporum  et  audaciaj  hominum 
feceruiit."  —  Tacit.  Annal.  i.  74. 

t  They  certainly  possessed  the  same  art  of  inst'uiciiing  their 
victims,  which  the  llcport  of  the  Secret  Couuuittcc  attributes  to 
Lord  Sidiuoutli's  a<ients:  —  "«0(»/s  (says  Tacitus  of  one  of  them) 
libidiuum  et  necessitatum,  quo  jilurilms  iitdiciis  inliyareV 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS.  347 

'T  is  true  my  Lord's  Elect  tell  fibs, 
And  deal  in  perj'ry  —  ditto  Tib's. 
'Tis  true,  the  Tyrant  screen'd  and  hid 
His  rogues  from  justice  * — ditto  Sid. 
'Tis  true,  the  Peer  is  grave  and  ghb 
At  moral  speeches  —  ditto  TiB.f 
'Tis  true,  the  feats  the  Tyrant  did 
Were  in  his  dotage  —  ditto  Sid. 

So  far,  I  own,  the  parallel 

'Twixt  Tib  and  Sid  goes  vastly  well ; 

But  there  are  points  in  Tib  that  strike 

JMy  humble  mind  as  much  more  like 

Yourself,  my  dearest  Lord,  or  him. 

Of  th'  India  Board  —  that  soul  of  whim ! 

Like  him,  Tiberius  lov'd  his  joke,| 

On  matters,  too,  where  few  can  bear  one ; 
E.  g.  a  man,  cut  up,  or  broke 

Upon  the  wheel  —  a  devilish  fair  one  ! 
Your  common  fractures,  wounds,  and  fits, 
Are  nothing  to  such  wholesale  wits ; 

*  "  Neqne  tamen  id  Sereno  noxte  fuit,  quem  odium  publicum 
tutiorem  faciebat.  Nam  ut  quis  districtior  accusator  velut  sacrb- 
sanctus  erat."  —  Annal.  lib.  iv.  36. —  Or,  as  it  is  translated  by 
Llr.  Fudge's  friend,  Murphy:  —  "This  daring  accuser  had  the 
curses  of  the  people,  and  the  protection  of  the  Emperor.  Informers, 
in  proportion  as  they  rose  in  guilt,  became  sacred  characters." 

t  Murphy  even  confers  upon  one  of  his  speeches  the  epithet 
"  constitutional."  Mr.  Fudge  might  have  added  to  his  parallel, 
that  Tiberius  was  a  c/ood  private  character:  —  "egregium  vita 
famaque  quoad privaius." 

J  "  Ludibria  seriis  permiscere  solitus." 


348  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS. 

But,  let  tlie  suff'rer  gasp  for  life, 

The  joke  is  then  worth  any  money ; 
And,  if  he  wnthe  beneath  a  knife, — 

Oh  dear,  that's  something  quite  too  funny. 
In  tliis  respeet,  my  Lord,  you  see 
Tlie  Roman  wag  and  ours  agree : 
Now  as  to  your  resemblance  —  mum  — 

This  parallel  we  need  not  follow  ;  * 
Though  'tis,  in  Ireland,  said  by  some 

Your  Lordship  beats  Tibeuius  hollow ; 
Whips,  chains  —  but  these  are  things  too  serious 

For  me  to  mention  or  discuss ; 
Whene'er  your  Lordship  acts  TiUKiiius, 

Phil.  Fudge's  part  is  Tacitus! 

Sept.  2. 
Was  thinking,  had  Lord  Sidmoutii  got 
Any  good  decent  sort  of  Plot 
Against  the  winter-time  —  if  not, 
Alas,  alas,  our  ruin 's  fated ; 
All  done  up,  and  spijlicated ! ' 
Ministers  and  all  their  vassals, 
Down  from  Castlekeagh  to  Castles, — 
Unless  w^e  can  kick  up  a  riot. 
Ne'er  can  hope  for  peace  or  quiet! 
What's  to  be  done? —  Spa-Fields  was  clever; 
But  even  that  brought  gibes  and  mockings 

*  There  is  one  point  of  resemblance  between  Tiberius  and 
Lord  C.  wliicli  Jlr.  Fudge  m.i<j}d  liave  mentioned  —  '■'•  suspema 
temper  el  obscura  verba.^' 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS.  349 

Upon  our  heads  —  so,  mem.  —  must  ncA'er 

Keep  ammunition  in  old  stockings ; 
For  fear  some  Avag  should  in  his  curst  head 
Take  it  to  say  our  force  Avas  worsted. 
Mem.  too  —  when  Sid  an  army  raises, 
It  must  not  be  "  incog."  like  Bayes's  : 
Nor  must  the  General  be  a  hobbling 
Professor  of  the  art  of  cobbling ; 
Lest  men,  who  perpetrate  such  puns. 

Should  say,  with  Jacobinic  grin. 
He  felt,  from  soleing  Wellingtons* 

A  Wellington's  great  soul  within  ! 
Nor  must  an  old  Apothecary 

Go  take  the  Tower,  for  lack  of  pence, 
With  (what  these  wags  would  call,  so  merry.) 

Physical  force  and  p/nal-ence  ! 
No  —  no  — our  Plot,  my  Lord,  must  be 
Next  time  contriv'd  more  skilfully. 
John  Bull,  I  grieve  to  say  is  growing 
So  troublesomely  sharp  and  knowing, 
So  wise  —  in  short,  so  Jacobin  — 
'T  is  monstrous  hard  to  take  htm  in. 

Sept.  6. 
Heard  of  the  fate  of  our  Ambassador 

In  China,  and  was  sorely  nettled ; 
But  think,  my  Lord,  we  should  not  pass  it  o'er 

Till  all  this  matter's  fairly  settled ; 

*  Short  boots,  so  called. 


350  THE  rinoE  iwmilv  in  pakis. 

And  here's  the  mode  occurs  to  me:  — 

As  none  of  our  Nobility, 

Though  for  their  own  most  gracious  King 

(They  would  kiss  hands,  or  —  any  thing), 

Can  be  persuaded  to  go  through 

This  farce-like  trick  of  the  Ko-tou  ; 

And  as  these  Mandarins  wo'ii't  bend, 

AVithout  some  mumming  exhibition, 
Suppose,  my  Lord,  you  were  to  send 

Gkimaldi  to  them  on  a  mission: 
As  LeyaiQ,  Joe  could  play  his  part, 
And  if,  in  diplomatic  art. 
The  "  volto  sciolto  "  *  's  meritorious, 
Let  Joe  but  grin,  he  has  it,  glorious ! 
A  title  for  him's  easily  made  ; 

And,  by-the-by,  one  Christinas  time, 
If  I  remember  right,  he  play'd 

Lord  Mo K LEY  in  some  pantomime;  —  t 
As  Earl  of  Morley  then  gazette  him, 
IW  other  Earl  of  Morley '11  let  him. 
(And  why  should  not  the  world  be  blest 
"With  two  such  stars,  for  East  and  West  ?) 


*  The  open  cottntc nance,  recommended  by  Lord  Chesterfield. 

t  j\Ir.  Fudge  is  a  little  mistaken  here.  It  was  not  Grimaldi, 
but  some  very  inferior  pcrfornuT,  who  played  tiiis  jiart  of  "  Lord 
Morley"  in  the  pantomime,  — so  mueh  to  tiie  horror  of  the  dis- 
tinguished Earl  of  that  name.  The  expostulatory  letters  of  the 
Xoble  Karl  to  Mr.  II— rr— s,  upon  tiiis  vulgar  [jroHination  of  his 
spick-and-span  new  title,  will,  I  trust,  some  time  or  other,  be 
given  to  the  world. 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS.  351 

Then,  when  before  the  Yellow  Screen 

He's  brought  —  and,  sure,  the  very  essence 
Of  etiquette  would  be  that  scene 

Of  Joe  in  the  Celestial  Presence  !  — 
He  thus  should  say  :  —  "  Duke  Ho  and  Soo, 
"I'll  play  what  tricks  you  please  for  you, 
"  If  you  '11,  in  turn,  but  do  for  me 
"  A  few  small  tricks  you  now  shall  see. 
"  If  I  consult  your  Emperor's  liking, 
"  At  least  you  '11  do  the  same  for  my  King." 
He  then  should  give  them  nine  such  gi'ins, 
As  Avould  astound  ev'n  Mandai'ins  ; 
And  throw  such  somersets  before 

The  picture  of  King  George  (God  bless  him  !) 
As,  should  Duke  Ho  but  try  them  o'er, 

Would,  by  Confucius,  much  distress  him ! 

I  start  this  merely  as  a  hint. 

But  think  you'll  find  some  Avisdom  in't ; 

And,  should  you  follow  up  the  job. 

My  son,  my  Lord  (you  Tcnoio  poor  Bob), 

Would  in  the  suite  be  glad  to  go 

And  help  his  Excellency,  Joe  ;  — 

At  least,  like  noble  Amherst's  son, 

The  lad  will  do  to  practise  on.* 

*  See  Mr.  Ellis's  account  of  the  Embassy. 


352  TIIK    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PAKIS. 

LETTER  X. 

FROM   MISS  BIDDY  FUDGE  TO   MISS   DOROTHY  . 

Wki.l,  it  isn't  the  King,  after  all,  my  dear  creature; 
But  don't  you  go  laugh,  now  —  there's  nothing  to 

quiz  in't  — 
For  grandeur  of  air  and  for  grimness  of  feature, 
He  might  be  a  King,  Doll,  though,  hang  him,  he 

isn't. 
At  first,  I  felt  hurt,  for  I  wish'd  it,  I  own. 
If  for  no  other  cause  but  to  vex  Miss  Malone,  — 
(The  great  heiress,  you  know,  of  Shandangan,  who 's 

here. 
Showing  off  with  such  airs,  and  a  real  Cashmere,* 
While  mine's  but  a  paltry,  old  rabbit-skin,  dear!) 
But  Pa  says,  on  deeply  consid'ring  the  thing, 
"  I  am  just  as  well  pleas'd  it  should  not  be  the  King ; 
"  As  I  think  for  my  Biddy,  so  gentille  andjolie, 
"  Whose  charms  may  their  price  in  an  honest  way 

fetch, 
"  That  a  Brandenburgh  " —  (what  is  a  Brandenburgh, 

Dolly?)  — 
"  Would  be,  after  all,  no  such  very  great  catch. 
"If  the  Regent  indeed — "  added  he,  looking  sly  — 
(You  remember  that  comical  squint  of  his  eye) 

*  See  Lady  Jlorgan's  "France"  for  the  anecdote,  told  her  by 
Madame  de  Genlis,  of  the  young  gentleman  whose  love  was 
cured  by  finding  that  his  mistress  wore  a  shawl  "peau  de  lapin." 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY   IX    PARIS.  353 

But  I  stopp'd  him  with  "  La,  Pa,  how  can  you  say  so, 
"  When   the    Eegent  loves   none  but  old  women, 

YOU  know ! " 
Which    is   fact,   my   dear    Dolly  —  we,    girls    of 

eighteen. 
And   so   shm  —  Lord,  he'd  think  us   not  fit  to  be 

seen ; 
And  would  like  us  much  better  as  old  —  ay,  as  old 
As  (hat  Countess  of  Desmoid,  of  whom  I've  been 

told 
That  she  liv'd  to  much  more  than  a  hundred  and  ten, 
And  was  kill'd  by  a  fall  from  a  cherry-tree  then  ! 
What  a  frisky  old  girl !  but  —  to  come  to  my  lover, 
Who,  though  not  a  King,  is  a  hero  I  '11  swear,  — 
You  shall  hear  all  that's  happen'd,  just  briefly  run 

over,  [the  air ! 

Since  that  happy  night,  when  we  whisk'd  through 

Let   me   see — 'twas   on   Saturday  —  yes,  Dolly, 

yes  — 
From  that  evening  I  date  the  first  dawn  of  my  bliss; 
When  we  both  rattled  oflTin  that  dear  httle  carriao-e 
Whose  journey.  Bob  says,  is  so  hke  Love  and  Mar 


c^J 


riage, 


"  Beginning  gay,  desperate,  dashing,  down-hilly, 
"  And  ending  as  dull  as  a  six-uiside  Dilly  !  "  * 
Well,  scarcely  a  wink  did  I  sleep  the  night  through 
And,  next  day,  having  scribbled  my  letter  to  you, 

*  The  cars,  on  the  return,  are  dragged  up  slowly  by  a  chain. 
VOL.  II.  23 


354  Till':    FUDGE    FAMII,  V    IN    I'AKIS. 

Witli  Ji  heart  full  of  hope  this  sweet  fellow  to  meet, 
I  set  out  with  Papa,  to  see  Louis  Dix-huit 
Make  Ins  bow  to  some  half-dozen  women  and  boys, 
Who  g.et  up  a  small  concert  of  shrill  Vive  le  JRois  — 
And  how  vastly  genteeler,  my  dear,  even  this  is, 
Than  vulgar  Pall-lNIairs  oratorio  of  hisses ! 
The  gardens  seem'd  fiill — so,  of  course,  we  walk'd 

o'er  'em, 
'Mong  orange-trees,  clipp'd  into  town-bred  decorum, 
And  daphnes,  and  vases,  and  many  a  statue 
There  staring,  Avith  not  ev'n  a  stitch  on   them,  at 

you ! 
The  ponds,  too,  we  view'd  —  stood   awhile  on   the 
brink 
To    contemplate   the   play  of  those    pretty   gold 
fishes  — 
" Live  bullioji"  says  merciless  Bob,  "  which,  I  think, 
"  Would,  if  coin'd,  with  a  little  mint  sauce,  be  de- 
licious !  "  * 

*  Mr.  Bob  need  not  be  ashamed  of  his  cookery  jokes,  when 
he  is  kept  in  countenance  by  such  men  as  Cicero,  St.  Ant/nstine, 
and  that  jovial  bisliop,  Veiiaiilius  Foriunatus.  The  pun  of  the 
great  orator  upon  the  "jus  Verrinum,"  which  he  calls  bad  hog- 
broth,  from  a  play  upon  both  the  words,  is  well  known;  and 
the  Saint's  puns  upon  the  conversion  of  Lot's  wife  into  salt  are 
equally  ingenious:  —  "In  salem  conversa  hominibus  fidelibus 
quoddam  praistitit  condimentum,  quo  supiant  aliquid,  undo  illud 
caveatur  exempluin." — De  Civitnt.  Dei,  lib.  xvi.  cap.  30. — 
The  joke-;  of  the  pious  favourite  of  Queen  Radagunda,  the  con- 
vivial 15ishop  Venantius,  may  be  found  among  his  poems,  in 
some  lines  against  a  cook  who  had  robbed  him.  The  following 
is  similar  to  Cicero's  pun :  — 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX   PARIS.  355 

But  what,  DoLLT,  what,  is  the  gay  oi'ange-grove, 
Or  gold  fishes,  to  her  that 's  in  search  of  her  love  ? 
In  vain  did  I  wildly  explore  every  chair 
Where  a  thing  like  a  man  was  —  no  lover  sate  there  ! 
In  vain  my  fond  eyes  did  I  eagerly  cast  [past, 

At    the  whiskers,  mustachios,  and   wigs    that  went 
To  obtain,  if  I  could,  but  a  glance  at  that  curl,  — 
A  glimpse  of  those  whiskers,  as  sacred,  my  girl, 
As  the  lock  that.  Pa  says,  *  is  to  Mussulmen  giv'n, 
For  the  angel  to  hold  by  that  "lugs  them  to  heaven!" 
Alas,  there  went  by  me  full  many  a  quiz, 
And  mustachios  in  plenty,  but  nothing  like  his ! 
Disappointed,  I   found  myself  sighing  out  "  well-a- 

day,'  — 
Thought  of  the  words  of  Tom  Moore's  Irish  Mel- 
ody, 

VXvLS, juscella  Coci  quam  mea/Mra  valent. 
See  his  poems,  CJorjms  Poetar.  Latin,  torn.  ii.  p.  1732.  —  Of 
the  same  kind  was  Montmaur^s  joke,  when  a  dish  was  spilt  over 
him  —  "summum  jus,  summa  injuria; "  and  the  same  celebrated 
parasite,  in  ordering  a  sole  to  be  placed  before  him,  said, — 

Eligi  cui  dicas,  tu  mihi  sola  places.  f 

The  reader  may  likewise  see,  among  a  good  deal  of  kitchen 
erudition,  the  learned  Lipsius's  jokes  on  cutting  up  a  capon  in 
his  Saiurnal.  Sermon,  lib.  ii.  cap.  2. 

*  For  this  scrap  of  knowledge  "Pa"  was,  I  suspect,  indebted 
to  a  note  upon  Volnej-'s  Euins;  a  book  which  usually  forms 
part  of  a  Jacobin's  library,  and  with  which  Mr.  Fudge  must  have 
been  well  acquainted  at  the  time  when  he  wrote  his  ''  Down 
with  Kings,"  etc.  The  note  in  Volney  is  as  follows:  —  "It  is  by 
this  tuft  of  hair  (on  the  crown  of  the  head),  worn  by  the  ma- 
jority of  Mussulmans,  that  the  Angel  of  the  Tomb  is  to  take  the 
elect  and  carry  them  to  Paradise. 


356  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PAKI3. 

Sometliing  about  the  "  green  spot  of  delight "  * 
(Which,  you  know,  Captain  Macintosh  sung  to 
us  one  day) : 
Ah  Dolly,  my  "t^pot"  was  that  Saturday  night, 
And  its   verdure,  how  fleeting,  had  wither'd  by 
Sunday ! 
We  din'd  at  a  tavern  —  La,  wliat  do  I  say  ? 

If  Bob  was  to  know  !  —  a  Restaurateur's,  dear ; 
Where  your  properest  ladies  go  dine  every  day. 
And  drink  Burgundy  out  of  large  tumblers,  like 
beer. 
Fine  Bob  (for  he's  really  grown  stiper-Rne) 

Condescended,  for  once,  to  make  one  of  the  party ; 
Of  course,  though  but  three,  we  had  dinner  for  nine, 
And  in  spite  of  my  grief,  love,  I  own  I  eat  hearty. 
Indeed,  Doll,  I  know  not  how  'tis,  but,  in  grief, 
I  have  always  found  eating  a  wond'rous  relief; 
And   Bob,   who's  in  love,  said  he  felt  the  same, 
quite  — 
"  My  sighs,"  said  he,  "  ceas'd  with  the  first  glass 
I  drank  you  ;  [ligl't, 

"  The  lamb  made  me  tranquil,  the  pu^s  made  me 
"  And  —  now  that  all 's  o'er  —  why,  I  'm  —  pretty 
well,  thank  you  !  " 

"  The  young  lady,  wliose  memorj'  is  not  vciy  correct,  must  al- 
lude, I  think,  to  the  following  lines:  — 

Oh  tliat  fiiiry  form  is  ne'er  forgot, 

Which  First  Love  traced; 
Still  it  ling'ring  haunts  the  greenest  spot 

On  ^leraory's  waste ! 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY   IX    PARIS.  357 

To  my  great  annoyance,  we  sat  rather  late ; 
For  Bobby  and  Pa  had  a  furious  debate 
About  smging  and  cookery  —  Bobby,  of  course. 
Standing  up  for  the  latter  Fine  Art  in  full  force ;  * 
And  Pa  saying,  "  God  only  knows  which  is  worst, 

"The  French  Singers  or  Cooks,  but  I  wish  us 
well  over  it  — 
"  "What  with  old  Lais  and  Very,  I'm  curst 

"  If  my  head  or  my  stomach  will  ever  recover  it ! " 

'T  was  dark,  when  Ave  got  to  the  Boulevards  to  stroll, 

And  in  vain  did  I  look  'mong  the  street  Macaronis, 
When,  sudden  it  struck  me  —  last  hope  of  my  soul  — 

That  some  angel  might  take  the  dear  man  to  ToR- 
TONi's !  t 
"We  enter'd  —  and,  scarcely  had  Bob,  with  an  air. 

For  a  grappe  a  la  jardiniere  call'd  to  the  waiters, 
When,  oh  Doll  !  I  saw  him  —  my  hero  was  there 

(For  I  knew  his  white  small-clothes  and  brown 
leather  gaiters). 


*  Cookery  has  been  dignified  by  the  researches  of  a  Bacon ; 
(see  his  Natural  History,  Receipts,  etc.)  and  tal^es  its  station  as 
one  of  the  Fine  Arts  in  the  following  passage  of  Mr.  But/aid  Stew- 
art:—  "Agreeably  to  this  view  of  the  subject,  sweet  may  be  said 
to  be  intrinsically  pleasing,  and  bitter  to  be  relatively  pleasing; 
which  both  are,  in  many  cases,  equally  essential  to  those  effects, 
which,  in  the  art  of  cookery,  correspond  to  that  compofite  beauty, 
which  it  is  the  object  of  the  painter  and  of  the  poet  to  create."  — 
Philosophical  Essays. 

t  A  fashionable  cafe  glacier  on  the  Italian  Boulevards. 


358  TIIF,    FinCrE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS. 

A  group  of  fair  statues  from  Greece  smiling  o'er 

liim,* 
And  lots  of  red  currant-juice  sparkling  before  him ! 
Oh  Dolly,  these  heroes — what  creatures  they  ax"e ; 
In  the  boudoir  the  same  as  in  fields  full  of  slaughter ! 
As  cool  in  the  Beaujon's  precipitous  car, 

As  Avhen  safe  at  Tortoni's,  o'er  ic'd  currant 
Mater ! 
He  join'd  us — imagine,  dear  creature,  my  ecstasy  — 
Join'd  by  the  man  I'd  have  broken  ten  necks  to  see ! 
Bob  wish'd  to  treat  him  with  Punch  a  la  glace, 
But  the  sweet  fellow  swore  that  my  beaute,  my  grace, 
And  my Je-ne-sais-qiioi  (then  his  whiskers  he  twirl'd) 
Were,  to  /«m, "  on  de  top  of  all  Ponch  in  de  vorld." — 
How  pretty!  —  though  oft  (as,  of  course,  it  must  be) 
Both  his  French  and  his  English  are  Greek,  Doll, 

to  me. 
But,  in  short,  I  felt  happy  as  ever  fond  heart  did ; 
And  happier  still,  Avhen  'twas  fix'd,  ere  we  parted, 
Tliat,  if  the  next  day  should  he  pastoral  weather, 
We  all  would  set  off,  in  French  buggies,  together, 
To  see  Montmorency  —  that  place  which,  you  know, 
Is  so  famous  for  cherries  and  Jean  Jacques  Rous- 
seau. 
His  card  then  he  gave  us  —  the  name,  rather  creas'd  — 
But  'twas   Calicot  —  something  —  a    Colonel,  at 
least ! 

*  "  You  eat  j'our  ice  at  Tortoni's,"  says  Mr.  Scott,  "under  a 
Grecian  group." 


THE   FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS.  359 

After  wliicli  —  sure  thei'e  never  was  hero  so  civil  —  he 
Saw  us  safe  home  to  our  door  in  Rue  Ricoli, 
Where  his  last  words,  as,  at  parting,  he  threw 
A  soft  look  o'er  his  shoulders,  were — "  How  do  you 
do ! "  * 

But,  lord, —  there's   Papa  for  the   post  —  I'm  so 

vext  — 
Montmorency  must  now,  love,  be  kept  for  my  next. 
That  dear  Sunday  night  I  —  I  was  charmingly  drest, 
And  —  so  providential !  —  was  looking  my  best ; 
Such  a  sweet  muslin  gown,  with  a  flounce  —  and  my 

frills,  [bills) 

You  've  no  notion  how  rich  —  (though  Pa  has  by  the 
And  you'd  smile  had  you  seen,  when  we  sat  i*ather 

near. 
Colonel  Calicot  eyeing  the  cambric,  my  dear. 
Then   the  flow'rs   in   my  bonnet  —  but,  la,  it's   in 

vain  — 
So,  good-by,  my  sweet  Doll  —  I  shall  soon  wiite 

asrain.  B.  F. 


"o' 


Nota  bene  —  our  love  to  all  neighbours  about  — 
Your  Papa  in  particular  —  how  is  his  gout  ? 

P.  S.  —  I  've  just  open'd  my  letter  to  say,        [pray, 
In  your  next  you  must  tell  me,  (now  do,  Dolly, 
For  I  hate  to  ask  Bob,  he 's  so  ready  to  quiz,) 
What  sort  of  a  thing,  dear,  a  Brandetiburgh  is. 

*  Not  an  unusual  mistake  with  foreigners. 


360  TllK    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PAUIS. 


LETTER  XI. 

FROM   PHELIM    CONNOR   TO 


Yes,  'twas  a  cause,  as  noble  and  as  great 

As  ever  hero  died  to  vindicate  — 

A  Nation's  right  to  speak  a  Nation's  voice, 

And  own  no  power  but  of  the  Nation's  clioice  ! 

Such  was  the  grand,  the  glorious  cause  that  now 

Hung  trembling  on  Nai'OLEox's  single  brow ; 

Such  the  sublime  arbitrament,  that  pour'd, 

In  patriot  i^ya^,  a  light  around  his  sword, 

A  hallowing  light,  which  nevei*,  since  the  day 

Of  his  young  victories,  had  illum'd  its  way ! 

Oil  't  was  not  then  the  time  for  tame  debates, 
Ye  men  of  Gaul,  when  chains  were  at  your  gates  ; 
When  he,  who  late  had  lied  your  Chieftain's  eye, 
As  geese  from  eagles  on  Mount  Taurus  fly,* 
Denounc'd  against  the  land,  that  spurn 'd  his  chain, 
JNIyriads  of  swords  to  bind  it  fast  again  — 
Myriads  of  iierce  invading  swords,  to  track 
Through  your  best  blood  his  path  of  vengeance  back; 


*  See  .Elian,  lilj.  v.  cap.  29.  —  who  tells  us  that  these  geese, 
from  a  consciousness  of  their  own  loquacity,  ahvays  cross  Mount 
Taurus  with  stones  in  their  bills,  to  prevent  any  unlucky  cackle 
from  betraying  them  to  the  eagles  —  {5ta:7tTorrai  OTuTuiTfj. 


THE   FUDGE    FAMILY   IN   PARIS.  361 

When  Europe's  Kings,  that  never  yet  combin'd 

But  (like  those  upper  Stars,  that,  when  conjoln'd, 

Shed  war  and  pestilence,)  to  scourge  mankind, 

Gather'd  around,  with  hosts  from  every  shore, 

Hating  Napoleon  much,  but  Freedom  more, 

And,  in  that  coming  strife,  appall'd  to  see 

The  world  yet  left  one  chance  for  liberty  !  — 

No  'twas  not  then  the  time  to  weave  a  net 

Of  bondage  round  your  Chief ;  to  curb  and  fret 

Your  veteran  war-horse,  pawing  for  the  fight, 

"When  every  hope  was  in  his  speed  and  might  — 

To  waste  the  hour  of  action  in  dispute, 

And  coolly  plan  how  freedom's  boughs  should  shoot, 

When  your  Invader's  axe  was  at  the  root! 

No  sacred  Liberty !  that  God,  who  throws 

Thy  liglit  around,  like  his  own  sunshine,  knows 

How  well  I  love  thee,  and  how  deeply  hate 

All  tyrants,  upstart  and  Legitimate  — 

Yet,  in  that  hour,  were  France  my  native  land, 

I  would  have  foUow'd,  with  quick  heart  and  hand. 

Napoleon,  Nero  —  ay,  no  matter  whom  — 

To  snatch  my  country  from  that  damning  doom, 

That  deadliest  curse  that  on  the  conquer'd  waits  — 

A  Conqueror's  satrap,  thron'd  within  her  gates ! 

True,  he  was  false  —  despotic  —  all  you  please  — 
Had  trampled  down  man's  holiest  liberties  — 
Had,  by  a  genius,  form'd  for  nobler  things 
Than  lie  within  the  grasp  of  vulgar  Kings, 


362  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN   PARIS. 

But  rais'd  the  hopes  of  men  —  as  eaglets  fly 
With  tortoises  aloft  into  the  sky  — 
To  dash  them  down  again  more  shatteringly ! 
All  this  I  own  —  but  still  *  *  * 

^F  ^p  "V  *  7|r  "jlc 


LETTER  XII. 


FROM    MISS    BIDDY    FUDGE  TO   MISS   DOROTHY 


At  la?t,  Dolly,  —  thanks  to  a  potent  emetic, 
Which  Bobby  and  Pa,  with  grimace  sympathetic, 
Have  swallow'd  this  morning,  to  balance  the  bliss, 
Of  an  eel  matelote  and  a  bisque  d'ecrevisses  — 
I've  a  morning  at  home  to  myself,  and  sit  down 
To  describe  you  our  heavenly  trip  out  of  town. 
How  agog  you  must  be  for  this  letter,  my  dear ! 
Lady  Jane,  in  the  novel,  less  langnish'd  to  hear 
If  that  elegant  cornet  she  met  at  Lord  Neville's 
Was  actually  dying  with  love  or  —  blue  devils. 
But  Love,  Dolly,  Love  is  the  theme  /jjursue ; 
With  lilue  Devils,  thank  heav'n,  I  have  nothing  to 
do  — 

*  Somebody  (Fontenelle,  I  believe,)  has  said,  tliat  if  he  had 
his  haii<l  full  of  truths,  he  would  open  but  one  finj^er  at  a  time; 
and  the  same  sort  of  reserve  I  find  to  be  necessary  witii  respect 
to  Mr.  Coimor's  very  plain-spoken  letters.  The  remainder  of 
this  Epistle  is  so  full  of  unsafe  matter-of-fact,  that  it  must,  for 
the  present  at  least,  be  withheld  from  the  public. 


THE   FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PARIS.  363 

Except,  indeed,  dear  Colonel  Calicot  spies 
Any  imps  of  that  colour  in  certain  blue  eyes, 
"Which  he  stares  at  till  /,  Doll,  at  his  do  the  same ; 
Then  he  simpers  —  I  blush  —  and  would  often  ex- 
claim, [shame  I " 
If  I  knew  but  the  French  for  it,  "Lord,  Sir,  for 

"Well,  the  morning  was  lovely  —  the  trees  in  full 

dress 
For  the  happy  occasion  —  the  sunshine  express  — 
Had  we  order'd  it,  dear,  of  the  best  poet  going, 
It  scarce  could  be  furnish'd  more  golden  and  glowing. 
Though  late  when  we  started,  the  scent  of  the  air 
"Was  like  Gattie's  rose-water,  —  and,  bright,  here 

and  there, 
On  the  grass  an  odd  dew-drop  was  glittering  yet. 
Like  my  aunt's  diamond  pin  on  her  green  tabbinet ! 
"V\"hile  the  birds  seem'd  to  wai'ble  as  blest  on  the 

boughs. 
As  if  each  a  plum'd  Calicot  had  for  her  spouse ; 
And  the  grapes  were   all  blushing  and  kissing  in 

rows. 
And  —  in  short,  need  I  tell  you,  wherever  one  goes 
With  the  creature  one  loves,  'tis  all  couleur  de  rose ; 
And,  ah,  I  shall  ne'er,  liv'd  I  ever  so  long,  see 
A  day  such  as  that  at  divine  Montmorency  ! 

There  Avas  but  one  drawback  —  at  first  when  we 

started. 
The  Colonel  and  I  were  inhumanly  parted ; 


oGi  Tine    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS. 

How  cruel  —  young  hearts  of  such  moments  to  rob ! 
He  went  in  Pa's  buggj'-,  and  I  went  with  Bob  ; 
And,  I  own,  I  felt  spitefully  happy  to  know 
That  Papa  and  hi*  comrade  agreed  but  so-so. 
For  the  Colonel,  it  seems,  is  a  stickler  of  Boxey's  — 
Served  with  him  of  course  —  nay,  I'm  sure  tliey 

were  cronies. 
So  martial  his  features !  dear  Doll,  you  can  trace 
Ulm,  Austerlitz,  Lodi,  as  plain  in  his  face 
As  you  do  on  tlint  pilhir  of  glory  and  brass,* 
Which  the  poor  Due  de  Bekri  must  hate  so  to  pass  ! 
It  appears,  too,  he  made  —  as  most  foreigners  do  — 
About  English  affairs  an  odd  blunder  or  two. 
For  example  —  misled  by  the  names,  I  dare  say  — 
He  confounded  Jack  Castles  with  Lord  Castle- 

REAGH ; 

And  —  sure  such  a  blunder  no  mortal  hit  ever  on  — 
Fancied  the  present  Lord  Cajidex  the  clever  one  ! 

But  politics  ne'er  were  the  sweet  fellow's  trade ; 

'Twas  for  war  and  the  ladies  my  Colonel  was  made. 

And,  oh,  liad  you  heard,  as  together  we  walk'd 

Thro'  that  beautiful  forest,  how  sweetly  he  talk'd ; 

And  how  perfectly  well  he  appear'd,  Doll,  to  know 

All  the  life  and  adventures  of  Jeax  Jacques  Rous- 
seau !  — 

"'Twas  there,"  said  he  —  not  that  his  loords  I  can 
state  — 

'Twas  a  gibl>'rish  that  Cupid  alone  could  translate ;  — 

*  Tlie  column  in  the  Place  Vendome. 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS.  365 

But  "  thei-e,"  said  he,  (pointing  where,  small  and  re- 
mote, [wrote,  — 
The    dear   Hermitage   rose,)  "  there  his  Julie  he 
"  Upon  paper  gilt-edg'd,*  -without  blot  or  erasure  ; 
"  Then  sanded  it  over  with  silver  and  azure, 
*'  And  —  oh,  what  will  genius  and  fancy  not  do  ?  — 
"  Tied  the  leaves  up  together  with  nompareiUe  blue  ! " 
What  a  trait  of  Rousseau  !  what  a  crowd  of  emotions 

From  sand  and  blue  ribbons  are  conjur'd  up  here  ! 
Alas,  that  a  man  of  such  exquisite  f  notions 

Should  send  his  poor  brats  to  the  Foundling,  my 
dear ! 

"'Twas  here,  too,   perhaps,"    Colonel   Calicot 
said  — 
As  down  the  small  garden  he  pensively  led  — 
(Though   once   I   could   see   his  sublime   forehead 

wrinkle 
With  rage  not  to  find  there  the  lov'd  periwinkle)  J 

*  "  Employant  pour  cela  le  plus  beau  papier  dor^,  s(?chaut 
I'^criture  avec  de  la  poudre  d'azur  et  d'argent,  et  cousant  mes 
cahiers  avec  de  la  nompareiUe  bleue."  —  Les  ConJ'essibns,  part  ii. 
liv.  9. 

t  This  word,  "exquisite,"  is  evidently  a  fovourite  of  Miss 
Fudge's;  and  1  understand  she  was  not  a  little  angry  when  her 
brother  Bob  committed  a  pun  on  the  last  two  syllables  of  it  in 
the  following  couplet :  — 

"I'd  fain  praise  your  Poem  —  but  tell  me,  how  is  it 
When  /cry  out  "Exquisite,"  £cho  cries  "quiz  ii?" 

I  The  flower  which  Eousseau  brought  into  such  fashion 
among  the  Parisians,  by  exclaiming  one  day,  "  Ah,  voila  de  la 
pervenche ! " 


366  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    I'AUIS. 

"'Twas  here  he  receiv'd  from  the  fair  D'Epixat 
"  (Who  caH'd  liiin  so  sweetly  Jier  Bear,*  ev^ry  day,) 
"  That  dear  flannel  petticoat,  pull'd  off  to  form 
"A  waistcoat,  to  keep  the  enthusiast  warm  !  "  f 

Such,  Doll,  were  the  sweet  recollections  we  pon- 

der'd, 
As,  full  of  romance,  through  that  valley  we  wander'd. 
The  flannel  (one's  train  of  ideas,  how  odd  it  is  I) 
Led  us  to  talk  about  other  commodities. 
Cambric,  and  silk,  and  —  I  ne'er  shall  forget, 
For  the  sun  was  then  hast'ning  in  pomp  to  its  set, 
And  full  on  the  Colonel's  dark  whiskers  shone  down, 
When  he  ask'd  me,  with  eagerness,  —  who  made  my 

gown  ?  [know, 

The  question  confus'd  me  —  for,  Doll,   you  must 
And  I  ought  to  have  told  my  best  friend  long  ago. 
That,  by  Pa's  strict  command,  I  no  longer  employ  | 
That  enchanting  couturiere,  Madame  le  Roi  ; 
But    am    forc'd   now  to   have   Victouine,   who  — 

deuce  take  her !  — 
It  seems  is  at  present,  the  King's  mantua-maker  — 

*  "  Mon  mirs,vo\]h  votre  asyle  —  et  vous,  wwra  mirs,  ne  vien- 
drez  vous  pas  aussi?"  — etc.  etc. 

t  "  Un  jour,  qu'il  geloit  tres  fort,  en  ouvrant  uii  paquetqu'elle 
m'envoyoit,  je  trouvai  un  petit  jupon  de  flanellc  d'Aiijrlcterre, 
qu'elle  me  manpioit  avoir  portO,  ct  doiit  clle  vouloit  que  je  me 
fisse  faire  un  gilet.  Ce  soin,  plus  qu'amical,  mc  parut  sitendre, 
comme  si  elle  se  fiit  d(5pouillee  pour  me  v(?tir,  que,  dans  mon 
Amotion,  je  bai.-ai  vingt  fois  en  pleiu'aiit  le  billot  ct  le  jupon." 

t  Miss  Biddy's  notions  of  French  jjronunciation  may  be  per- 
ceived in  the  rhymes  which  she  always  selects  for  "  Le  iJw." 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    PARIS.  367 

T  mean  of  his  party  —  and,  though  much  the  smartest, 
Le  Roi  is  condemn'd  as  a  rank  Bonapartist.* 
Think,   Doll,  how  confounded  I  look'd  —  so  well 

knowing 
The    Colonel's    opinions  —  my   cheeks   were    quite 

glowing ; 
I  stammer'd  out  something  —  nay,  even  half  nam'd 
The  legitimate  sempstress,  when,  loud,  he  exclaim'd, 
"Yes,  yes,  by  the  stitching  'tis  plain  to  be  seen 
"  It  was  made  by  that  Bourbonite  b rh,  ViCTO- 

RINE  ! " 
What  a  word  for  a  hero  !  —  but  heroes  ivill  err, 
And  I  thought,  dear,  I  'd  tell  you  things  just  as  they 

were. 
Besides,  though  the  word  on  good  manners  intrench, 
I  assure  you  'tis  not  Iialf  so  shocking  in  French. 

But  this  cloud,  though  embarrassing,  soon  pass'd  away, 
And  the  bliss  altogether,  the  dreams  of  that  day. 
The  thoughts  that  arise,  when  such  deai-  fellows  woo 

us, — 
The  nothings  that  then,  love,  are  every  thing  to  us  — 
That  quick  correspondence  of  glances  and  sighs, 
And  what  Bob  calls  the  "Twopenny-post  of  the 

Eyes"  — 
Ah,  Doll  !  though  I  kno\o  you've  a  heart,  'tis  in  vain 
To  a  heart  so  unpractis'd  these  things  to  explain. 

*  Le  Roi,  who  was  the  Couiuriere  of  the  Empress  Maria  Louisa, 
is  at  present,  of  course,  out  of  fashion,  and  is  succeeded  in  her 
station  by  the  Royalist  mantua-maker,  Victokixe. 


368  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    I'ARIS. 

They  can  only  be  felt,  in  llieir  fulness  divine, 
By  her  who  lius  AvauderVl,  at  evening's  decline, 
Through  a  valley  like  that,  with  a  Colonel  like  mine  ! 

But  here  I  must  finish  —  for  Bob,  my  dear  Dolly, 
"Whom  physic,  I  find,  always  makes  melancholy, 
Is  seiz'd  with  a  fancy  for  church-yard  reflections; 
And,  full  of  all  yesterday's  rich  recollections, 
Is  just  setting  oflE"for  Montmartre  —  "for  there  is," 
Said  he,  looking  solemn,  "the  tomb  of  the  VeUYS  !* 
"  Long,  long  have  I  wish'd,  as  a  votary  true, 

"  O'er  the  grave  of  such  talents  to  utter  my  moans ; 
"And  to-day  —  as  my  stomach  is  not  in  good  cue 

"For  the  Jksh  of  the  Vkuys  —  I'll  visit   their 
bones !  " 
lie  insists  upon  my  going  with  him  —  how  teasing ! 

This  letter,  however,  dear  Dolly,  shall  lie 
Unseal'd  in  my  draw'r,  thJit,  if  any  thing  pleasing 

Occurs  while  I  'm  out,  I  may  tell  you  —  good-bye. 

B.  F. 

Four  o'clock. 
Oh,  Dolly,  dear  Dolly,  I'm  ruin'd  for  ever  — 
I  ne'er  shall  be  happy  again,  Dolly,  never  ! 
To  think  of  the  wretch  —  what  a  victim  was  I ! 
'Tis  too  much  to  endure  —  I  shall  die,  I  shall  die  — 

*  It  is  the  brother  of  the  present  excellent  Restiuiratour  who 
lies  entombed  so  magnificently  in  the  Cimeti^re  Montmartre. 
The  inscription  on  the  column  at  the  head  of  the  tomb  concludes 
■with  the  following  words:  — "  Touto  sa  vie  fut  consacree  aux 
arts  utiles." 


THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IN    TAKIS.  369 

My  brain's  in  a  fever ^ — my  pulses  beat  quick  — 
I  shall  die,  or,  at  least,  be  exceedingly  sick ! 
Oh,  what  do  you  think  ?  after  all  my  romancing. 
My  visions  of  glory,  my  sighing,  my  glancing, 
This  Colonel  —  I  scarce  can  commit  it  to  paper  — 
This  Colonel 's  no  more  than  a  vile  linen-draper ! ! 
'Tis  true  as  I  live  —  I  had  coax'd  brother  Bob  so, 
(You'll  hardly  make  out  what  I'm  writing,  I  sob  so,) 
For  some  little  gift  on  my  birthday —  September 
The  thirtieth,  dear,  I'm  eighteen,  you  remember  — 
That  Bob  to  a  shop  kindly  order'd  the  coach, 

(Ah,  little   I   thought  who  the   shopman  would 

prove,) 
To  bespeak  me  a  few  of  those  viouchoirs  de  poche, 
Which,  in  happier  hours,  I  have  sigh'd  for,  my 

love  — 
(The  most   beautiful    things  —  two   Napoleons   the 

price  — 
And  one's  name  in  the  corner  embroider'd  so  nice !) 
Well,  with  heart  full  of  pleasure,  I  enter'd  the  shop. 
But  —  ye   Gods,  what  a  phantom  !  —  I  thought   I 

should  drop  — 
There  he  stood,  my  dear  Dolly  —  no  room  for  a 

doubt  — 
There,  behind  the  vile  counter,  these  eyes  saw 

him  stand, 
With  a  piece  of  French  cambric,  before  him  roU'd 

out, 
And   that   horrid   yard-measure   uprais'd   in   his 

hand! 
VOL.  n  24 


370  THE    FUDGE    FAMILY    IX    PAUIS. 

Oh  —  Papa,  all  along,  knew  the  secret,  'tis  clears— 
'Twa5  a  shopman  he  meant  by  a  "  Brandenbiirgh," 

dear ! 
The  man,  wliom  I  fondly  had  fancied  a  King, 

And,  when  that  too  delightful  illusion  was  past. 
As  a  hero  had  worshipp'd  —  vile,  treacherous  tiling — • 

To  turn  out  but  a  low  linen-draper  at  last ! 
My  head  swam  around  —  the  wretch  sniil'd,  I  believe, 
But  his  smiling,  alas,  could  no  longer  deceive  — 
I  fell  back  on   Bob  —  my  whole   heart  seem'd  to 

wither  — 
And,  pale  as  a  gliost,  I  was  carried  back  hither  ! 
I  only  remember  that  Bob,  as  I  caught  him. 

With  cruel  facetiousness  said,  "  Curse  the  Kiddy ! 
"A  staunch  Revolutionist  always  I've  thought  him, 

"  But  now  I  find  out  he's  a  Counter  one,  Biddy!  " 

Only  think,  my  dear  creature,  if  this  should  be 
known 
To  that  saucy,  satirical  thing.  Miss  Malone  ! 
What  a  story  'twill  be  at  Shandangan  for  ever! 
What  laughs  and  what  quizzing  she  '11  have  with 
the  men !  [never 

It  will  spread  through  the  country  —  and  never,  oh. 

Can  BiDDY'  be  seen  at  Kilrandy  again ! 
Farewell  —  I  shall  do  something  desp'rate,  I  fear  — 
And,  ah !  if  my  fate  ever  reaches  your  ear, 
One  tear  of  compassion  my  Doll  will  not  grudge . 
To  her  poor  —  broken-hearted  —  young  friend, 

Biddy  Fudge. 


THE   FUDGE    FAMILY   IN    PAEIS.  371 

Nota  bene  —  I  am  sure  you  will  hear,  with  delight, 
That  we're  going,  all  three,  to  see  Brunet  to-night. 
A  laugh  will  revive  me  —  and  kind  Mr.  Cox 
(Do  you  know  him  ?)  has  got  us  the  Governor's  box. 


FABLES 
FOR    THE  HOLY   ALLIANCE. 


Tu  Kegibus  alas 
Eripe. 

Virgil,  Georg.  lib.  iv. 

Clip  the  -nings 

Of  these  high-flying,  arbitrary  Kings. 

Dryd£n"s  Translation 


DEDICATION. 


TOLORDBYRON. 

Dear  Lord  Byron, 

Though  this  Volume  should  possess  no  other 
merit  in  your  eyes,  than  that  of  reminding  you  of 
the  short  time  we  passed  together  at  Venice,  when 
some  of  the  trifles  which  it  contains  were  written, 
you  will,  I  am  sure,  receive  the  dedication  of  it  with 
pleasure,  and  believe  that  I  am. 
My  dear  Lord, 

Ever  faithfully  yours, 

T.   B. 


PREFACE. 


Though  it  was  tJie  wish  of  the  Members  of  the 
Poco-curante  Society  (who  have  lately  done  me  the 
honour  of  electing  me  their  Secretary)  that  I  should 
prefix  my  name  to  the  following  Miscellany,  it  is  but 
fair  to  them  and  to  myself  to  state,  that,  except  in 
the  "  painful  preeminence "  of  being  employed  to 
transcribe  their  lucubrations,  my  claim  to  such  a 
distinction  in  the  title-page  is  not  greater  than  that 
of  any  other  gentleman,  who  has  contributed  his 
share  to  the  contents  of  the  volume. 

I  had  originally  intended  to  take  this  opportunity 
of  giving  some  account  of  the  origin  and  objects  of 
our  Institution,  the  names  and  characters  of  the  dif- 
fei'ent  members,  etc.  etc.  —  but,  as  I  am  at  present 
preparing  for  the  press  the  First  Volume  of  the 
"  Transactions  of  the  Poco-curante  Society,"  I  shall 
reserve  for  that  occasion  all  further  details  upon  the 
subject ;  and  content  myself  here  with  referring,  for 
a  general  insight  into  our  tenets,  to  a  Song  which 
will  be  found  at  the  end  of  this  work,  and  which  is 
sung  to  us  on  the  first  day  of  every  month,  by  one 


378  FABLES    FOR    THE    UOLY    ALLIANCE. 

of  our  oldest  members,  to  the  tune  of  (as  far  as  I 
can  recollect,  being  no  musician,)  either  "  Nancy 
Dawson  "  or  "  He  stole  away  the  Bacon." 

It  may  be  as  well  also  to  state,  for  the  information 
of  those  critics,  who  attack  with  the  hope  of  being 
answered,  and  of  being,  thereby,  brought  into  notice, 
that  it  is  the  rule  of  this  Society  to  return  no  other 
answer  to  such  assailants,  than  is  contained  in  the 
three  words  "  Non  curat  Ilippoclides,"  (meaning,  in 
English,  "  Ilippoclides  does  not  care  a  fig,")  which 
■were  spoken  two  thousand  years  ago  by  the  first 
founder  of  Poco-curantism,  and  have  ever  since  been 
adopted  as  the  leading  dictum  of  the  sect. 

THOMAS  BROWX. 


FABLES  FOR  THE  HOLY  ALLIANCE. 


TABLE    I. 

THE  PISSOLUTION  OF  THE  HOLT  ALLIANCE. 
A    DREAM. 

I've  had  a  dream  that  bodes  no  good 

Unto  the  Holy  Brotherhood. 

I  may  be  wrong,  but  I  confess  — 

As  far  as  it  is  right  or  lawful 
For  one,  no  conjurer,  to  guess  — 

It  seems  to  me  extremely  awful. 

Methought,  upon  the  Neva's  flood 

A  beautiful  Ice  Palace  stood, 

A  dome  of  frost-work,  on  the  plan 

Of  that  once  built  by  Empress  Anne,* 

Which  shone  by  moonlight  —  as  the  tale  is  — 

Like  an  Aurora  Borealis. 

*  "  It  is  well  known  that  the  Empress  Anne  built  a  palace  of 
ice  on  the  Neva,  in  1740,  which  was  fifty-two  feet  in  length,  and 
when  illuminated  had  a  surprising  eflect."  —  Pinkeeton. 


380  FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLY    ALLIANCE. 

In  this  said  Palace,  furnish'd  all 

And  lighted  as  the  best  on  land  are, 
I  drearat  there  was  a  splendid  Ball, 

Giv'n  by  the  Emperor  Alexander, 
To  entertain  with  all  due  zeal, 

Those  holy  gentlemen,  who've  shown  a 
Regard  so  kind  for  Europe's  Aveal, 

At  Ti'oppau,  Laybach,  and  Verona. 

The  thought  was  happy  —  and  design'd 
To  hint  how  thus  the  human  Mind 
May,  like  the  stream  imprison'd  there, 
Be  check'd  and  chill'd,  till  it  can  bear 
The  heaviest  Kings,  that  ode  or  sonnet 
E'er  yet  be-prais'd,  to  dance  upon  it. 
And  all  were  pleas'd,  and  cold,  and  stately, 

Shivering  in  grand  illumination  — 
Admir'd  the  superstructure  greatly, 

Nor  gave  one  thought  to  tlie  foundation. 
Much  too  the  Czar  himself  exulted. 

To  all  plebeian  fears  a  stranger. 
For,  IMadame  Krudener,  when  consulted. 

Had  pledg'd  her  word  there  was  no  danger. 
So,  on  he  caper'd,  fearless  quite, 

Thinking  himself  extremel}^  clever, 
And  waltz'd  away  with  all  his  miglit. 

As  if  the  Frost  would  last  for  ever. 

Just  fancy  how  a  bard  like  me, 

Who  reverence  monarchs,raust  have  trembled 


FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLT   ALLIANCE.  381 

To  see  that  goodly  company, 

At  such  a  ticklish  sport  assembled. 

Nor  were  the  fears,  that  thus  astounded 
My  loyal  soul,  at  all  unfounded  — 
For,  lo  I  ere  long,  those  ■walls  so  massy 

Were  seiz'd  with  an  ill-omen'd  dripping, 
And  o'er  the  floors,  now  growing  glassy, 

Their  Holinesses  took  to  slipping. 
The  Czar,  half  through  a  Polonaise, 

Could  scarce  get  on  for  downright  stumbling  ; 
And  Prussia,  though  to  slippery  ways 

Well  us'd,  was  cursedly  near  tumbling. 

Yet  still  'twas,  who  could  stamp  the  floor  most, 
Russia  and  Austria  'mong  the  foremost.  — 
And  now,  to  an  Italian  air, 

This  precious  brace  would,  hand  in  hand,  go  ; 
Now  —  while  old  Louis,  from  his  chair, 
Intreated  them  his  toes  to  spare  — 

Call'd  loudly  out  for  a  Fandango. 

And  a  Fandango,  'faith,  they  had. 
At  which  they  all  set  to,  like  mad ! 
Never  were  Kings  (though  small  th'  expense  is 
Of  wit  among  their  Excellencies) 
So  out  of  all  their  princely  senses. 
But,  ah,  that  dance  —  that  Spanish  dance  — 
Scarce  was  the  luckless  strain  begun. 


382  FABLES    FOR   THE   HOLT   ALLIANCE. 

When,  glaring  red,  as  'twere  a  glance 
Shot  from  an  angry  Southern  sun, 

A  light  through  all  the  chambers  flam'd, 
Astonishing  old  Father  Frost, 

Who,  bursting  into  tears,  exclaim'd, 

"A  tliaw,  by  Jove  —  we're  lost,  we're  lost! 

"  Run,  France  —  a  second  Waterloo 

"Is  come  to  drown  you  —  sauve  qui  pent!" 

Why,  why  will  monarchs  caper  so 

In  palaces  without  foundations  ?  — 
Instantly  all  was  in  a  flow, 

Crowns,  fiddles,  sceptres,  decorations  — 
Those  Royal  Arms,  that  look'd  so  nice, 
Cut  out  in  the  resplendent  ice  — 
Those  Eagles,  handsomely  provided 

With  double  heads  for  double  dealings  — 
How  fast  the  globes  and  sceptres  glided 

Out  of  their  claws  on  all  the  ceilings ! 
Proud  Prussia's  double  bird  of  prey 
Tame  as  a  spateh  cock,  slunk  away ; 
While — just  like  France  herself,  when  she 

Proclaims  how  great  her  naval  skill  is  — 
Poor  Louis'  drowning  fleurs-de-lys 

Imajrin'd  themselves  tvater-Ulies. 


c 


And  not  alone  rooms,  ceilings,  shelves, 
But  —  still  more  fatal  execution  — 

The  Great  Legitimates  tiiemselves 
Seem'd  in  a  state  of  dissolution. 


FABLKS    FOR    THE    HOLY    ALLIAXCE.  383 

Th'  indignant  Czar  —  when  just  about 

To  issue  a  sublime  Ukase, 
"Whereas  all  light  must  be  kept  out"  — 

Dissolv'd  to  nothing  in  its  blaze.  ' 

Next  Prussia  took  his  turn  to  melt, 
And,  while  his  lips  illustrious  felt 
The  influence  of  this  southern  air, 

Some  word,  like  "  Constitution  "  —  long 
Congeal'd  in  frosty  silence  there  — 

Came  slowly  thawing  from  his  tongue. 
While  Louis,  lapsing  by  degrees, 

And  sishino;  out  a  faint  adieu 
To  truffles,  salmis,  toasted  cheese 

And  smoking  fondus,  quickly  grew, 

Himself,  into  afondii  too  ;  — 
Or  like  that  goodly  King  they  make 
Of  sugar  for  a  Twelfth-night  cake, 
"When,  in  some  urchin's  mouth,  alas, 
It  melts  into  a  shapeless  mass ! 

In  short,  I  scarce  could  count  a  minute. 
Ere  the  bright  dome,  and  all  within  it, 
Kings,  Fiddlers,  Emperors,  all  w^ere  gone  — 

Aiid  nothing  now  was  seen  or  heard 
But  the  bright  river,  rushing  on, 

Happy  as  an  enfranchis'd  bird. 
And  prouder  of  that  natural  ray. 
Shining  along  its  chainless  way  — 
More  proudly  happy  thus  to  glide 

In  simple  grandeur  to  the  sea, 


384  FAHLKS    FOU    TIIF.    HOLY    ALLIANCE. 

Than  when,  in  sparkling  fetters  tied, 
'Twas  deck'd  witli  all  that  kingly  pride 
Could  bring  to  light  its  slavery  ! 

Such  is  my  dream  —  and,  I  confess, 

I  tremble  at  its  awfulness.  . 

That  Spanish  Dance  —  that  southern  beam- 

But  I  say  nothing  —  there's  my  dream  — 

And  Madame  Krudener,  the  she-prophet, 

May  make  just  what  she  pleases  of  it. 


FABLE    II. 

THE  LOOKIXG-GLASSES. 
PROEM. 

Where  Kings  have  been  by  mob-elections 

Rais'd  to  the  throne,  'tis  strange  to  see 
What  different  and  what  odd  perfections 

Men  have  requir'd  in  Royalty. 
Some,  liking  monarchs  lai-ge  and  phunpy, 

Have  chos'n  their  Sovereigns  by  the  weight ; — 
Some  wish'd  them  tall,  some  thought  your  dum2iy, 

Dutch-built,  the  true  Legitimate.* 


*  The  Goths  hnd  a  law  to  choose  iiiwaj's  a  short,  thick  man 
for  their  King.  —  Muxster,  Co$mo(j.  lib.  iii.  p.  1G4. 


FABLES   FOR   THE   HOLT   ALLIANCE.  385 

The  Easterns  in  a  Prince,  'tis  said, 
Prefer  what 's  call'd  a  jolter-head :  * 
Th'  Egyptians  wer'n't  at  all  partic'lar. 

So  that  their  Kings  had  not  red  hair  — 
This  fault  not  ev'n  the  greatest  stickler 

For  the  blood-royal  well  could  bear. 

A  thousand  more  such  illustrations 

Might  be  adduc'd  from  various  nations. 

But,  'mong  the  many  tales  they  tell  us. 
Touching  th'  acquir'd  or  natural  right 

Which  some  men  have  to  rule  their  fellows, 
There 's  one  which  I  shall  here  recite :  — 


FABLE. 

There  was  a  land  —  to  name  the  place 
Is  neither  now  my  wish  nor  duty  — 

Where  reign'd  a  certain  Royal  race, 
By  right  of  their  superior  beauty. 

What  was  the  cut  legitimate 

Of  these  great  persons'  chins  and  noses. 
By  right  of  which  they  rul'd  the  state. 

No  history  I  have  seen  discloses. 

*  "  la  a  Prince  a  jolter-head  is  invaluable." 

Oriental  Field  Sports. 

VOL.  II.  25 


386  FABLES    FOU    THE    HOLT   ALLIANCE. 

But  SO  it  wiis  —  a  settled  case  — 

Some  Act  of  Parliament,  pass'd  snugly, 

Had  voted  them  a  beauteous  race, 
And  all  their  faithful  subjects  ugly. 

As  rank,  indeed,  stood  high  or  low. 

Some  change  it  made  in  visual  organs ; 

Your  Peers  were  decent  —  Knights,  so  so  — 
But  all  your  common  people,  gorgons  ! 

Of  course,  if  any  knave  but  hinted 

That  the  King's  nose  was  turn'd  awry. 

Or  that  the  Queen  (God  bless  her  !)  squinted  — 
The  judges  doom'd  that  knave  to  die. 

But  rarely  things  like  this  occurr'd, 

Tlie  i)eople  to  their  King  were  duteous, 

And  took  it,  on  his  Royal  word. 

That  they  were  frights,  and  He  was  beauteous. 

The  cause  whereof,  among  all  classes, 
Wa5  simply  this  —  these  island  elves 

Had  never  yet  seen  looking-glasses. 

And,  therefore,  did  not  know  themselves. 

Sometimes,  indeed,  their  neigbours'  faces 
Might  strike  them  as  more  full  of  reason. 

More  fresh  than  those  in  certain  places  — 
But,  Lord,  the  very  thought  was  treason ! 


FABLES    FOU    THE    HOLY   ALLIANCE.  387 

Besides,  howe'er  we  love  our  neighbour, 
And  take  his  face's  part,  'tis  known 

We  ne'er  so  mach  in  earnest  labour, 
As  when  the  fiice  attack'd's  our  own. 

So,  on  they  went  —  the  crowd  beheving  — 
(As  crowds  well  govern'd  always  do) 

Their  rulers,  too,  themselves  deceiving  — 
So  old  the  joke,  they  thought  't  was  true. 

But  jokes,  we  know,  if  they  too  far  go, 
Must  have  an  end  —  and  so,  one  day, 

Upon  that  coast  tliere  was  a  cargo 
Of  looking-glasses  cast  away. 

'Twas  said,  some  Radicals,  somewhere, 
Had  laid  their  wicked  heads  together, 

And  forc'd  that  ship  to  founder  there,  — 
"While  some  believe  it  was  the  weather. 

However  this  mijrht  be,  the  freijrht 
Was  landed  without  fees  or  duties ; 

And  from  that  hour  historians  date 
The  downfall  of  the  Race  of  Beauties. 

The  looking-glasses  got  about. 

And  grew  so  common  through  the  land, 
That  scarce  a  tinker  could  walk  out, 

Without  a  mirror  in  his  hand. 


388  FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLY    ALLIANCE. 

Comparing  faces,  morning,  noon, 

And  night,  their  constant  occupation  — 

By  dint  of  looking-glasses,  soon, 
They  grew  a  most  reflecting  nation. 

In  vain  the  Court,  aware  of  errors 
In  all  the  old,  establish'd  mazards, 

Prohibited  the  use  of  mirrors. 

And  tried  to  break  them  at  all  hazards :  — 

In  vain  —  their  laws  might  just  as  well 
Have  been  waste  paper  on  the  shelves ; 

That  fatal  freight  had  broke  the  spell ; 

People  had  look'd  —  and  knew  themselves. 

If  chance  a  Duke,  of  birth  sublime, 

Presum'd  upon  his  ancient  face, 
(Some  calf-head,  ugly  from  all  time,) 

They  popp'd  a  mirror  to  his  Grace :  — 

Just  hinting,  by  that  gentle  sign, 

How  little  Nature  holds  it  true, 
That  wliat  is  call'd  an  ancient  line, 

Must  be  the  hne  of  Beauty  too. 

From  Dukes'  they  pass'd  to  regal  phizzes, 
Compar'd  them  proudly  with  their  own, 

And  cried,  "  How  could  such  monstrous  quizzes 
"  In  Beauty's  name  usurp  the  throne  ! "  — 


FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLT    ALLIANCE.  389 

They  then  wrote  essays,  pamphlets,  books, 

Upon  Cosmetical  G3conomy, 
Which  made  the  King  try  various  looks, 

But  none  improved  his  physiognomy. 

And  satires  at  the  Court  were  levell'd, 
And  small  lampoons,  so  full  of  slynesses, 

That  soon,  in  short,  they  quite  be-devil'd 
Their  Majesties  and  Royal  Highnesses. 

At  length  —  but  here  I  drop  the  veil, 
To  spare  some  loyal  folks'  sensations  ;  — 

Besides,  what  follow'd  is  the  tale 
Of  all  such  late  enlightened  nations  ; 

Of  all  to  whom  old  Time  discloses 

A  truth  they  should  have  sooner  known  — • 

That  Kings  have  neither  rights  nor  noses 
A  whit  diviner  than  their  own. 


FABLE   III. 

THE  TORCH   OF   LIBEETT. 


I  SAW  it  all  in  Fancy's  glass  — 

Herself,  the  fair,  the  wild  magician, 

Who  bid  this  splendid  day-dream  pass, 
And  nam'd  each  gliding  apparition. 


390  FABLES    FOIl    THE    HOLY    ALLIANCE. 

'T  was  like  a  torch-race  —  such  as  they 
Of  Greece  perforni'd,  in  ages  gone, 

When  the  fleet  youths,  in  long  array. 
Pass VI  the  bright  torch  triumphant  on. 

I  saw  th'  expectant  nations  stand, 

To  catch  the  coming  flame  in  turn  ;  — 

I  saw,  from  ready  hand  to  hand. 

The  clear,  though  struggling,  glory  burn. 

And,  oh,  their  joy,  as  it  came  near, 
'T  was,  in  itself,  a  joy  to  see  ;  — 

While  Fancy  wliisper'd  in  my  ear, 
"  That  torch  they  pass  is  Liberty  !  " 

And,  each,  as  she  receiv'd  the  flame, 
Liglited  her  altar  with  jts  ray  ; 

Then,  smiling,  to  the  next  who  came, 
Speeded  it  on  its  sparkling  way. 

From  Albion  first,  whose  ancient  shrine 
Was  furnish'd  with  the  fire  already, 

Columbia  caught  the  boon  divine. 

And  lit  a  flame,  like  Albion's,  steady. 

The  splendid  gift  then  Gallia  took. 
And,  like  a  wild  Bacchante,  raising 

The  brand  aloft,  its  sparkles  shook, 
As  she  would  set  the  world  a-blazing ! 


FABLES    FOR    THE   HOLY   ALLIANCE.  391 

Thus  kindling  wild,  so  fierce  and  high 

Her  altar  blaz'd  into  the  air, 
That  Albion,  to  that  lire  too  nigh, 

Shrunk  back,  and  shudder'd  at  its  glare  ! 

Next,  Spain,  so  new  was  light  to  her, 
Leap'd  at  the  torch  —  but,  ere  the  spark 

That  fell  upon  her  shrine  could  stir, 

'T  was  quench'd  —  and  all  again  was  dark. 

Yet,  no  —  not  quench'd  —  a  treasure,  worth 

So  much  to  mortals,  rarely  dies : 
Again  her  living  light  look'd  forth, 

And  shone,  a  beacon,  in  all  eyes. 

"Who  next  receiv'd  the  flame  ?  alas, 

Unworthy  Naples  —  shame  of  shames, 

That  ever  through  such  hands  should  pass 
That  brightest  of  all  earthly  flames  ! 

Scarce  had  her  fingers  touch'd  the  torch, 
When,  frighted  by  the  sparks  it  shed, 

Nor  waiting  ev'n  to  feel  the  scorch. 
She  dropp'd  it  to  the  earth  —  and  fled. 

And  fall'n  it  might  have  Ion";  remain'd ; 

But  Greece,  who  saw  her  moment  now, 
Caught  up  the  prize,  though  prostrate,  stain'd. 

And  wav'd  it  round  her  beauteous  brow. 


392  FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLY   ALLIANCE. 

And  Fancy  bade  me  mark  where,  o'er 
Her  altar,  as  its  flame  ascended, 

Fair,  lanreUM  spirits  seem'd  to  soar. 

Who  tlius  in  sonir  their  voices  blended  :  — 

"  Shine,  shine  for  ever,  glorious  Flame, 
"  Divinest  gift  of  Gods  to  men  ! 

"  From  Greece  thy  earliest  splendour  came, 
"To  Greece  thy  ray  returns  again. 

"  Take,  Freedom,  take  thy  radiant  round, 
"  When  dinnn'd,  revive,  when  lost,  return, 

"  Till  not  a  shrine  through  earth  be  found, 
"  On  which  thy  glories  shall  not  burn  !  " 


FABLE    IV. 

THE  FLY   AND   THE   BULLOCK. 
PROEM. 

Op  all  that,  to  the  sage's  survey. 

This  woi-ld  presents  of  topsy-turvy. 

There's  nought  so  much  disturbs  one's  patience, 

As  little  minds  in  lofty  stations. 

'Tis  like  that  sort  of  painful  wonder. 

Which  slender  columns,  labouring  under 

Enormous  arches,  give  beholders  ;  — 
Or  those  poor  Caryatides, 


FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLT    ALLIANCE.  393 

Condemn'd  to  smile  and  stand  at  ease, 
With  a  whole  house  upon  their  shoulders. 

If,  as  in  some  few  royal  cases, 

Small  minds  are  born  into  such  places  — 

If  they  are  there,  by  Right  Divine, 

Or  any  such  sufficient  reason, 
"Wliy  —  Heav'n  forbid  we  should  repine  !  — 

To  wish  it  otherwise  Avere  treason  ; 
Nay,  ev'n  to  see  it  in  a  vision, 
Would  be  what  lawyers  call  misprision. 

Sir  Robert  Filmer  saith  —  and  he, 

Of  course,  knew  all  about  the  matter  — 
"  Both  men  and  beasts  lovfe  Monarchy  ;  " 

Which  proves  how  rational  —  the  latter. 
Sidney,  we  know,  or  wrong  or  right, 
Entirely  differ'd  from  the  Knight : 
Nay,  hints  a  King  may  lose  his  head, 

By  slipping  awkwardly  his  bridle  :  — 
But  this  is  treasonous,  ill-bred. 
And  (now-a-days,  when  Kings  are  led 

In  patent  snaffles)  downright  idle. 

No,  no  —  it  isn't  right-line  Kings, 
(Those  sovereign  lords  in  leading-strings 
Who,  from  their  birth,  are  Faith-Defenders,) 
That  move  my  wrath — 'tis  your  pretenders, 
Your  mushroom  rulers,  sons  of  earth, 
Who  —  not,  like  t'  others,  bores  by  birth, 


394  FABLES    FOU    THE    HOLY    ALLIANCE. 

EstabiisliVl  gratia  Dei  blockheads, 

Born  with  three  kingdoins  in  their  pockets^ 

Yet,  with  a  brass  that  nothi^ijf  stops, 

Push  up  into  the  loftiest  stations, 
And,  though  too  dull  to  manage  shops, 

Presume,  the  dolts,  to  manage  nations ! 

This  class  it  is,  that  moves  my  gall. 
And  stirs  up  bile,  and  spleen,  and  all. 
While  other  senseless  things  appear 
To  know  the  limits  of  their  sphere  — 
While  not  a  cow  on  earth  romances 
So  much  as  to  conceit  she  dances  — 
While  the  most  jumping  frog  we  know  of. 
Would  scarce  at  Astley's  hope  to  show  oflf — 
Your  *  *  *s,  your  *  *  *s  dare, 

Untrain'd  as  are  their  minds,  to  set  them 
To  any  business,  any  where. 

At  any  time  that  fools  will  let  them. 

But  leave  we  here  these  upstart  things  — 
»      My  business  is,  just  now,  witii  Kings  ; 
To  whom,  and  to  their  right-line  glory, 
I  dedicate  the  following  story. 


FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLY    ALLIANCE.  395 


FABLE. 

The  wise  men  of  Egypt  were  secret  as  dummies ; 

And,  ev'n  when  they  most  condescended  to  teach, 
They  pack'd  up  their  meaning,  as  they  did  their 
mummies, 

In  so  many  wrappers,  'twas  out  of  one's  reach. 

They  were  also,  good  people,  much  given  to  Ivings  — 
Fond  of  craft  and  of  crocodiles,  monkeys  and 
mystery ; 

But  blue-bottle  flies  were  their  best  belov'd  things  — 
As  will  partly  appear  in  this  very  short  histoiy. 

A  Scythian  philosopher  (nephew,  they  say, 

To  that  other  great  traveller,  young  Anacharsis,) 

Stept  into  a  temple  at  Memphis  one  day, 

To  have  a  short  peep  at  their  mystical  farces. 

t 
He  saw  *  a  brisk  blue-bottle  Fly  on  an  altar, 

Made    much    of,   and    worshipp'd,    as    something 

divine ; 
"While  a  large,  handsome  Bullock,  led   there    in  a 

halter. 
Before  it  lay  stabb'd  at  the  foot  of  the  shrine. 

«  According  to  .Elian,  it  was  in  the  island  of  Leueadia  they 
practised  this  ceremony  —  dveiv  (iovv  Tcug  fivcaig.  —  Be  Animal. 
lib.  ii.  cap.  8. 


396  FABLES    FOR    TIIH    HOLY    ALLIANCE. 

Surpris'd  at  such  doings,  lie  whisper'd  his  teacher  — 

"If 'tis  n't  impertiiient,  may  I  ask  why 
"  Should  a  Bullock,  that  useful  and  powerful  creature, 

"  lie  thus  ort'er'd  up  to  a  blue-bottle  Fly?" 
"No  wonder"  —  said  t'other — "you   stare  at   the 
sight, 

"  But  we  as  a  Symbol  of  monarchy  view  it  — 
"  That  Fly  on  the  shrine  is  Legitimate  Right, 

And  that  Bullock, the  People,  that's  sacrific'd  to  it." 


FABLE    V. 

CHURCH  AND   STATE. 

PROEM. 

"The  moment  any  religion  becomes  national,  or  established,  its  purity 
must  certainly  be  lost,  because  it  is  then  impossible  to  keep  it  uncon- 
nected with  men's  interests ;  and,  if  connected,  it  must  ine\'itably  bo 
perverted  by  them."  — Soame  Jeni'ns. 

Thus  did  Soame  Jen-jt^s  —  though  a  Tory, 
A  Lord  of  Trade  and  the  Plantations  ; 

Feel  how  Religion's  simple  glory 
Is  stain'd  by  State  associations. 

When  Catitertne,  ere  she  crush'd  the  Poles, 

Appeal'd  to  the  benign  Divinity ; 
Then  cut  them  up  in  protocols. 
Made  fractions  of  their  very  souls  *  ^ — 

All  in  the  name  of  t  lie  bless'd  Trinity; 

*  Ames,  (k7)ii-ames,  etc. 


FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLY   ALLIANCE.  397 

Or  when  her  grandson,  Alexander, 
That  mighty  Northern  saLaraander,* 
"Whose  icy  touch,  feh  all  about. 
Puts  every  fire  of  Freedom  out  — 
"When  he,  too,  winds  up  his  Ukases 
"With  God  and  the  Panagia's  praises  — 
When  he,  of  royal  Saints  the  type, 

In  holy  water  dips  the  spunge, 
"With  which,  at  one  imperial  wipe. 

He  would  all  human  rights  expunge ; 
"When  Louis  (whom  as  King,  and  eater, 
Some  name  Dix-huit,  and  some  Des-huitres,) 
Calls  down  "  St.  Louis'  God  "  to  witness 
The  right,  humanity,  and  fitness 
Of  sending  eighty  thousand  Solons, 

Sages,  with  muskets  and  lac'd  coats. 
To  cram  instruction,  nolens  volens, 

Down  the  poor  struggling  Spaniards'  throats  — 
I  can't  help  thinking,  (though  to  Kings 

I  must,  of  course,  like  other  men,  bow,) 
That  when  a  Christian  monarch  brings 
Religion's  name  to  gloss  these  things  — 

Such  blasphemy  out-Benbows  Benbow  !  t 

Or  —  not  so  far  for  facts  to  roam. 
Having  a  few  much  nearer  home  — 
"When  we  see  Churchmen,  who,  if  ask'd, 

*  The  salamander  is  supposed  to  have  thfrpower  of  extinguish- 
ing fire  by  its  natural  coldness  and  moisture, 
t  A  well-known  publisher  of  irreligious  books. 


398  FARLKS    roil    TIIK    IIOI.Y    ALLIANCE. 

"  jNIust  Ireland's  slaves  be  tith'd,  and  task'd, 
"  And  driv'n,  like  Negroes  or  Croats, 

'"That  you  may  roll  in  wealth  and  bliss?" 
Look  from  beneath  their  shovel  hats 

AVith  all  due  pomp,  and  answer  '"  Yes ! " 
But  then,  if  question'd,  "  Sliall  the  brand 
"  Intolerance  flings  throughout  that  land,  — 
"  Shall  the  fierce  strife  now  taught  to  grow 
"  Betwixt  her  palaces  and  hovels, 
"  Be  ever  quench'd  ?  "  —  from  the  same  shovels 
Look  grandly  forth,  and  answer  "  No." 
Alas,  alas  !  have  these  a  claim 
To  merciful  Religion's  name  ? 
If  more  you  seek,  go  see  a  bevy 
Of  bowing  parsons  at  a  levee  — 
(Choosing  your  time,  when  straw's  before 
Some  apoplectic  bishop's  door,) 
Then,  if  thou  canst,  with  life,  escape 
That  rush  of  lawn,  that  press  of  crape, 
Just  watch  their  rev'rences  and  graces, 

As  on  each  smirking  suitor  frisks. 
And  say,  if  those  round  shining  faces 

To  heav'n  or  earth  most  turn  their  disks  ? 

This,  this  it  is  — Eeligion,  made, 

'Twixt  Church  and  State,  a  truck,  a  trade  — 

This  most  ill-match'd,  unholy  Co., 

From  whence  the  ills  we  witness  flow ; 

The  war  of  many  creeds  with  one  — 

Th'  extremes  of  too  much  faith,  and  none  — 


FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLY   ALLIANCE.  399 

Till,  betwixt  ancient  trash  and  new, 
'Twixt  Cant  and  Blasphemy  —  the  two 
Rank  ills  with  which  this  age  is  curst  — 
We  can  no  more  tell  which  is  worst, 
Than  erst  could  Egypt,  when  so  rich 
In  various  plagues,  determine  which 
She  thought  most  pestilent  and  vile. 
Her  frogs,  like  Benbow  and  Carlisle, 
Croaking  their  native  mud-notes  loud, 
Or  her  fat  locusts,  like  a  cloud 
Of  pluralists,  obesely  lowering. 
At  once  benighting  and  devouring  !  — 

This  —  this  it  is  —  and  here  I  pray 

Those  sapient  wits  of  the  Reviews, 
Who  make  us  poor,  dull  authors  say. 

Not  what  we  mean,  but  what  they  choose ; 
Who  to  our  most  abundant  shares 
Of  nonsense  add  still  more  of  theirs. 
And  are  to  poets  just  such  evils 

As  caterpillars  find  those  flies,* 
Which,  not  content  to  sting  like  devils, 

Lay  eggs  upon  their  backs  likewise  — ■ 
To  guai'd  against  such  foul  deposits 

Of  other's  meaning  in  my  rhymes, 
(A  thing  more  needful  here,  because  it's 

A  subject,  ticklish  in  these  times)  — 

*  "  The  greatest  number  of  the  ichneumon  tribe  are  seen  set- 
tling upon  the  back  of  the  caterpilhir,  and  darting  at  different 
intervals  their  stings  into  its  body  —  at  eveiy  dart  they  depose 
an  egg." —  Goldsmith. 


400  TAliLES    I'OU    TIIK    HOLY    ALLIANCE. 

I,  here,  to  all  such  wits  make  known, 
Monthly  and  Weekly,  Whig  and  Tory, 

'Tis  this  Religion  —  this  alone  — 
I  aim  at  in  the  following  story:  — 


FABLE. 

When  Royalty  was  young  and  bold. 

Ere,  touch'd  by  Time,  he  had  become  — 

If  tis  n't  civil  to  say  old, 

At  least,  a  ci-devant  jeune  homme  ; 

One  evening,  on  some  wild  pursuit, 
Driving  along,  he  chanc'd  to  see 

Religion,  passing  by  on  foot, 
And  took  liim  in  his  vis-a-vis. 

This  said  Religion  was  a  Friar, 
The  humblest  and  the  best  of  men, 

Who  ne'er  had  notion  or  desii*e 
Of  riding  in  a  coach  till  then. 

"  I  say  "  —  quoth  Royalty,  who  rather 
Enjoy'd  a  masquerading  joke  — 

"I  say,  suppose,  my  good  old  father, 
"  You  lend  me,  for  a  while,  your  cloak." 

The  Friar  consented  —  little  knew 

What  tricks  the  youth  had  in  his  head ; 


FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLT   ALLIANCE.  401 

Besides,  was  rather  tempted  too 
By  a  lac'd  coat  he  got  in  stead. 

Away  ran  Royalty,  slap-dash, 

Scampering  like  mad  about  the  town ; 

Broke  windows,  shiver'd  lamps  to  smash. 

And  knock'd  whole  scores  of  watchmen  down. 

While  nought  could  they,  whose  heads  were  broke, 
Learn  of  the  "  why  "  or  the  "  wherefore," 

Except  that  'twas  Religion's  cloak 

The  gentleman,  who  crack'd  them,  wore. 

Meanwhile,  the  Friar,  whose  head  was  turn'd 

By  the  lac'd  coat,  grew  frisky  too ; 
Look'd  big  —  his  former  habits  spnrn'd  — 

And  storm'd  about  as  srreat  men  do : 


o 


Dealt  much  in  pompous  oaths  and  jsurses  — 
Said  "  d — mn  you  "  often,  or  as  bad  — 

Laid  claim  to  other  people's  purses  — 
Jn  short,  grew  either  knave,  or  mad. 

As  work  like  this  was  unbefitting. 

And  flesh  and  blood  no  longer  bore  it, 

The  Court  of  Common  Sense,  then  sitting, 
Summon'd  the  culprits  both  before  it. 

Where,  after  hours  in  wrangling  spent 

(As  Courts  must  wrangle  to  decide  well), 
VOL.  II.  26 


402  FABLES    FOR   THE   HOLY   ALLIANCE. 

Religion  to  St.  Luke's  was  sent, 

And  Royalty  pack'd  off  to  Bridewell. 

With  this  proviso  —  should  they  be 
Restor'd,  in  due  time,  to  their  senses, 

They  both  must  give  security. 

In  future,  against  such  offences  — 

Religion  ne'er  to  lend  his  cloak, 

Seeing  what  dreadful  work  it  leads  to ; 

And  Royalty  to  crack  his  joke,  — 

But  not  to  crack  poor  people's  heads  too. 


FABLE   VI. 

THE   LITTLE   GRAND    LAMA. 

PROEM. 

Novella,  a  young  Bolognese, 

The  daugliter  of  a  learn'd  Law  Doctor,* 
"Who  had  with  all  the  subtleties 

Of  old  and  modern  jurists  stock'd  her, 
"Was  so  exceeding  fair,  'tis  said. 

And  over  hearts  held  such  dominion, 
,  That  when  her  father,  sick  in  bed, 
Or  busy,  sent  her,  in  his  stead, 

To  lecture  on  the  Code  Justinian, 

*  Andreas. 


FABLES  FOR  THE  HOLY  ALLIANCE.     403 

■» 

She  had  a  curtain  drawn  before  her, 

Lest,  if  her  charms  were  seen,  tlie  students 
Should  let  their  young  eyes  wander  o'er  her, 

And  quite  forget  their  jurisprudence.* 
Just  so  it  is  with  Truth,  when  seeti, 

Too  dazzling  far,  — 't  is  from  behind 
A  light,  thin  allegoric  screen, 

She  thus  can  safest  teach  mankind. 


FABLE. 

In  Thibet  once  there  reign'd,  we're  told, 
A  little  Lama,  one  year  old  — 
Rais'd  to  the  throne,  that  realm  to  bless, 
Just  when  his  little  Holiness 
Had  cut  —  as  near  as  can  be  reckon'd  -^- 
Sorae  say  his^^rs^  tooth,  sorlie  his  second. 
Chronologers  and  Nurses  vary, 
Which  proves  historians  should  be  waiy. 
We  only  know  th'  important  truth, 
His  Majesty  had  cut  a  toolh.f 
And  much  his  subjects  were  enchanted,  — 
As  well  all  Lamas'  subjects  mctf/  be, 

*  Quand  il  ^toit  occupy  d'aucune  essoine,  il  envoyoit  Novelle, 
sa  fille,  en  son  ]ieu  lire  aux  escholes  en  charge,  et,  afin  que  la 
biaut6  d'elle  n'empccliat  la  pens(5e  des  oyants,  elle  avoit  une 
petite  courtine  devant  elle. —  Christ,  de  Fise,  Cite  des  Dames,  p. 
11.  cap.  36. 

t  See  Turner's  Embassy  to  Thibet  for  an  account  of  his  inter- 


404         FABLES    FOR    TIIK    HOLY   ALLIANCE. 

And  would  have  giv'n  their  heads,  if  wanted, 

To  make  tee-totums  for  the  haby. 
Thron'd  as  he  was  by  Right  Divine  — 

(What  Lawyers  call  Jure  Bivino, 
Meaning  a  right  to  yours,  and  mine, 

And  every  body's  goods  and  rhino,) 
Of  course,  his  ftiithful  subjects'  purses 

Were  ready  with  their  aids  and  succours ; 
Nothing  Avas  seen  but  pension'd  Nurses, 

And  the  land  groan'd  with  bibs  and  tuckers. 

Oh !  had  there  been  a  Hume  or  Bennet, 
Then  sitting  in  the  Thibet  Senate, 
Ye  Gods,  what  room  for  long  debates 
Upon  the  Nursery  Estimates  ! 
What  cutting  down  of  swaddling-clothes 

And  pin-a-fores,  in  nightly  battles  ! 
Wliat  calls  for  papers  to  expose 

The  waste  of  sugar-plums  and  rattles  ! 
But  no  — if  Thibet  had  M.  P.'s, 
They  were  far  better  bred  than  these ; 
Nor  gave  the  slightest  opposition, 
During  the  Monarch's  whole  dentition. 


o 


But  short  this  calm ;  —  for,  just  when  he 
Had  reach'd  th'  alarming  age  of  three, 

view  with  the  Lama.  — "  Teshoo  Lama  (he  says)  was  at  tliis 
time  eighteen  months  old.  Tliough  he  was  unable  to  speak  a 
word,  he  made  the  most  expressive  signs,  and  conducted  himself 
with  astonishing  cUf/nitij  and  decorum." 


FABLES    FOK    THE    HOLY    ALLIANCE.  405 

When  Royal  natures,  and,  no  doubt, 
Those  of  all  noble  beasts  break  out  — 
The  Lama,  who  till  then  was  quiet, 
Show'd  symptoms  of  a  taste  for  riot ; 
And,  ripe  for  mischief,  early,  late. 
Without  regard  for  Church  or  State, 
Made  free  with  whosoe'er  came  nigh ; 

Tweak'd  the  Lord  Chancellor  by  the  nose, 
Turn'd  all  the  Judges'  wigs  awry. 

And  trod  on  the  old  Generals'  toes  ; 
Pelted  tlie  Bishops  with  hot  buns. 

Rode  cock-horse  on  the  City  maces. 
And  shot  froni  little  devilish  guns. 

Hard  peas  into  his  subjects'  faces. 
In  short,  such  wicked  pranks  he  play'd. 

And  grew  so  mischievous,  God  bless  him  ! 
That  his  Chief  Nurse  —  with  ev'n  the  aid 
Of  an  Archbishop  —  was  afraid, 

When  in  these  moods,  to  comb  or  dress  him. 
Nay,  ev'n  the  persons  most  inclin'd 

Through  thick  and  thin,  for  Kings  to  stickle, 
Thought  him  (if  they  'd  but  speak  their  mind. 

Which  they  did  not)  an  odious  pickle. 

At  length  some  patriot  lords  —  a  breed 

Of  animals  they've  got  in  Thibet, 
Extremely  rare,  and  fit,  indeed. 

For  folks  like  Pidcock,  to  exhibit  — 
Some  patriot  lords,  who  saw  the  length 
To  which  things  went,  combin'd  their  strength, 


406  FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLY    ALLIANCE. 

Aiul  penn'd  a  luanly,  jjlaiii  and  fix-e 
Remonstrance  to  the  Nursery  ; 
Protesting  warmly  that  they  yielded 

To  none,  that  ever  went  before  'em, 
In  loyalty  to  him  who  wielded 

Th'  hereditary  j)ap-spoon  o'er  'em  ; 
Tiiat,  as  for  treason,  'twas  a  thing 

That  made  them  almost  sick  to  think  of — 
Tliat  they  and  theirs  stood  by  the  King, 

Throughout  his  measles  and  his  chin-cough, 
When  others,  thinking  him  consumptive. 
Had  ratted  to  the  Heir  Presumptive  !  — 
But,  still  —  tliough  much  admiring  Kings 
(And  chiefly  those  in  leading-strings), 
They  saw,  with  shame  and  grief  of  soul, 

There  was  no  longer  now  the  wise 
And  constitutional  control 

Of  birch  before  their  ruler's  eyes  ; 
But  that,  of  late,  such  pranks,  and  tricks, 

And  freaks  occui-r'd  tiie  wliole  day  long, 
As  all,  but  men  with  bisiiopricks, 

Allow'd,  in  ev'n  a  King,  were  wrong. 
Wherefore  it  was  they  humbly  pray'd 

That  Honourable  Nursery, 
That  such  reforms  be  henceforth  made, 

As  all  good  men  desir'd  to  see ;  — 
In  other  words  (lest  they  might  seem 
Too  tedious),  as  the  gentlest  scheme 
For  putting  all  such  pranks  to  rest. 

And  in  its  bud  the  mischief  nipping — ■ 


FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLY    ALLIANCE.  407 

They  ventur'd  humbly  to  suggest 

His  Majesty  should  have  a  whipping ! 

When  this  was  read,  no  Congreve  rocket, 

Discharg'd  into  the  Gallic  trenches, 
E'er  equall'd  the  tremendous  shock  it 

Produced  upon  the  Nursery  benches. 
The  Bishops,  who  of  course  had  votes, 
33y  right  of  age  and  petticoats, 
Were  first  and  foremost  in  the  fuss  — 

"  What,  whip  a  Lama !  suffer  birch 

"  To  touch  his  sacred infamous  ! 

"  Deistical !  —  assailing  thus 

"  The  fundamentals  of  the  Church  !  — 
"  No  —  no  —  such  patriot  plans  as  these, 
"  (So  help  them  Heaven  —  and  their  Sees !) 
"  They  held  .to  be  rank  blasphemies." 

Th'  alarm  thus  given,  by  these  and  other 

Grave  ladies  of  the  Nursery  side, 
Spread  through  the  land,  till,  such  a  pother. 

Such  party  squabbles,  far  and  wide, 
Never  in  history's  page  had  been 
Recorded,  as  were  then  between 
The  Whippers  and  Non-whippers  seen. 
Till,  things  arriving  at  a  state. 

Which  gave  some  fears  of  revolution, 
The  patriot  lords'  advice,  though  late. 

Was  put  at  last  in  execution. 


408    FABLES  FOR  THE  HOLY  ALLIANCE. 

The  Parliament  of  Thibet  met  -^ 
The  little  Lama,  call'd  before  it. 

Did,  then  and  there,  his  whipping  get, 

And  (as  the  Nursery  (^azette 
Assures  us)  like  a  hero  bore  it. 

And  though,  'mong  Thibet  Tories,  some 
Lament  that  Royal  Martyrtfom 
(Please  to  observe,  the  letter  D 
In  this  last  word's  pronounc'd  like  B), 
Yet  to  th'  example  of  that  Prince 

So  much  is  Thibet's  land  a  debtor, 
That  her  long  line  of  Lamas,  since, 

Have  all  behav'd  themselves  much  better. 


FABLE   VII. 

THE   EXTINGUISHERS. 
PROEM, 

Though  soldiers  are  the  true  supports, 
The  natural  allies  of  Courts, 
Woe  to  the  Monarch,  who  depends 
Too  much  on  his  red-coated  friends ; 
For  even  soldiers  sometimes  think  — 

Nay,  Colonels  have  been  known  to  reason,  ■ 
And  reasoners,  whether  clad  in  pink. 
Or  red,  or  blue,  arc  on  the  brink 

(Nine  cases  out  of  ten)  of  treason. 


FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLT   ALLIANCE.  409 

« 

Not  many  soldiers,  I  believe,  are 

As  fond  of  liberty  as  Mina  ; 
Else  —  woe  to  Kings,  when  Freedom's  fever 

Once  turns  into  a  Scarletina! 
For  then  —  but  hold  —  'tis  best  to  A'eil 
My  meaning  in  the  following  tale :  — 


FABLE. 


A  Lord  of  Persia,  rich  and  great, 

Just  come  into  a  large  estate, 

Was  shock'd  to  find  he  had,  for  neighbours, 

Close  to  his  gate,  some  rascal  Ghebers, 

Whose  fires,  beneath  his  very  nose, 

In  heretic  combustion  rose. 

But  Lords  of  Persia  can,  no  doubt, 

Do  what  they  will  —  so,  one  fine  morning, 
He  turn'd  the  rascal  Ghebers  out, 

First  giving  a  few  kicks  for  warning. 
Then,  thanking  heaven  most  piously. 

He  knock'd  their  Temple  to  the  ground. 
Blessing  himself  for  joy  to  see 

Such  Pagan  ruins  strew'd  around. 
But  much  it  vex'd  my  Lord  to  find. 

That,  while  all  else  obey'd  his  will. 
The  fire  these  Ghebers  left  behind. 

Do  what  he  would,  kept  burning  still. 
Fiercely  he  storm'd,  as  if  his  frown 
Could  scare  the  bright  insurgent  down  ; 


410  FABLES    FOR   THE   HOLY   ALLIANCE. 

But,  no  —  such  fires  are  headstrong  things, 
And  care  not  much  for  Lords  or  Kings. 
Scarce  could  his  Lordship  well  contrive 

The  flashes  in  one  place  to  smother, 
Before  —  hey  presto  !  —  all  alive. 

They  sprung  up  freshly  in  another. 

At  length  when,  spite  of  prayers  and  damns, 
'Twas  found  the  sturdy  flame  defied  liim, 
His  stewards  came,  with  low  salams, 

Offering,  by  contract,  to  provide  him 
Some  large  Extinguishers,  (a  plan, 
.    Much  us'd,  they  said,  at  Ispahan, 
Vienna,  Petersburgh  —  in  sliort. 
Wherever  Light's  forbid  at  court,) 
Machines  no  Lord  should  be  without, 
Which  would,  at  once,  put  promptly  out 
All  kinds  of  fires,  —  from  staring,  stark 
Volcanos  to  the  tiniest  spark ; 
Till  all  things  slept  as  dull  and  dark, 
As,  in  a  great  Lord's  neiglibourhood, 
'Twas  right  and  fitting  all  things  should. 

Accordingly,  some  large  supplies 

Of  these  Extinguishers  were  furnish'd 

(All  of  the  true  Lnperial  size), 

And  there,  in  rows,  stood  bhick  and  burnish'd, 

Ecady  wliere'er  a  gleam  l)ut  shone 

Of  light  or  lire,  to  be  clapp'd  on. 


FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLY    ALLIANCE.  411 

But,  all,  how  lordly  wisdom  errs, 

In  trusting  to  extinguishers  ! 

One  day,  when  he  had  left  all  sure, 

(At  least,  so  thought  he)  dark,  secure  — 

The  flame,  at  all  its  exits,  entries, 

Obstructed  to  his  heart's  content. 
And  black  extinguishers,  like  sentries, 

Plac'd  over  every  dangerous  vent  — 
Ye  Gods,  imagine  his  amaze, 

His  wrath,  his  I'age,  when,  on  returning, 
He  found  not  only  the  old  blaze, 

Brisk  as  before,  crackling  and  burning, — 
Not  only  new,  young  conflagrations. 
Popping  up  round  in  various  stations  — 
But  still  more  awful,  strange,  and  dire, 
Th'  Extinguishers  themselves  on  fii'e  ! !  * 
They,  they  —  those  trusty,  blind  machines 

His  Lordship  had  so  long  been  praising, 
As,  under  Providence,  the  means 

Of  keeping  down  all  lawless  blazing, 
"Were  now,  themselves  —  alas,  too  true 
The  shameful  fact  —  turn'd  blazers  too, 
And,  by  a  change  as  odd  as  cruel, 
Instead  of  dampers,  served  for  fuel  I 

*  The  idea  of  this  Fable  was  caught  from  one  of  those  brilliant 
mots,  which  abound  in  the  conversation  of  my  friend,  the  author 
of  the  "Letters  to  Julia," — a  production  which  contains  some  of 
the  happiest  specimens  of  playful  poetry  that  have  appeared  in 
this  or  any  ag^. 


412    FABLES  FOR  THE  HOLY  ALLIANCE. 

Thus,  of  his  only  hope  bereft, 

"  What,"    said    the    great    man,    "  must    be 
done  ?  "  — 
All  that,  in  scrapes  like  this,  is  left 

To  great  men  is  —  to  cut  and  run. 
So  run  he  did ;  while  to  their  grounds. 

The  banish'd  Giiobers  blest  return'd; 
And,  though  their  Fire  had  broke  its  bounds, 

And  all  abroad  now  wildly  burn'd. 
Yet  well  could  they,  who  lov'd  the  flame, 
Its  wand'ring,  its  excess  reclaim ; 
And  soon  another,  fairer  Dome 
Arose  to  be  its  sacred  home. 
Where,  cherish'd,  guarded,  not  confin'd, 
The  living  glory  dwelt  inshrin'd, 
And,  shedding  lustre  strong,  but  even, 
Though  born  of  earth,  grew  worthy  heav'n 


MORAL. 


The  moral  hence  my  Muse  infers 
Is,  that  such  Lords  are  simple  elves. 

In  trusting  to  Extinguishers, 

That  are  combustible  themselves. 


FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLY   ALLIANCE.  413 

TABLE    VIII. 

LOUIS   FOUKTEENTII'S   M'lG. 

The  money  rais'd  —  the  army  ready  — 
Drums  beating,  and  the  Royal  Neddy 
Vahantly  braying  in  the  van, 
To  the  old  tune  "  Eh,  eh,  Sire  Ane  !"  —  * 
Nought  wanting,  but  some  coup  dramatic, 

To  make  French  sentimejit  explode, 
Bring  in,  at  once,  the  gout  fanatic. 

And  make  the  war  "  la  derniere  mode  "  — 
Instantly,  at  the  Pav'Uon  Marsan, 

Is  held  an  Ultra  consultation  — 
What's  to  be  done,  to  help  the  farce  on? 

What  stage-effect,  what  decoration, 
To  make  this  beauteous  France  forget. 
In  one,  grand,  glorious  ^:»«'roi/eWe, 
All  she  had  sworn  to  but  last  week, 
And,  with  a  cry  of  "  Magnifique  I  " 
Rush  forth  to  this,  or  any  war, 
Without  inquiring  once  — "  What  for  ?  " 

After  some  plans  proposed  by  each, 
Lord  Chateaubriand  made  a  speech, 

♦  They  celebrated  in  the  dark  ages,  at  many  churches,  partic- 
ularly at  Rouen,  what  was  called  the  Feast  of  the  Ass.  On  this 
occasion  the  ass,  finely  drest,  was  brought  before  the  altar,  and 
they  sung  before  him  this  elegant  anthem,  "  Eh,  eh,  eh,  Sire  Ane, 
eh,  eh,  eh,  Sire  Ane."  —  Warton's  Eisay  on  Pope. 


414  FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLY    ALLIANCE. 

(Quoting,  to  show  what  men's  rights  are, 

Or  rather  what  men's  riglits  should  he. 
From  Hobbes,  Lord  Castlereagh,  the  Czar, 

And  other  friends  to  Liberty,) 
Wherein  he  —  having  first  protested 
'Gainst  liumouring  the  mob  —  suggested 
(As  the' most  iiigh-bred  plan  he  saw 
For  giving  the  new  War  eclat) 
A  grand,  Baptismal  Melo-Drame, 
To  be  got  up  at  Notre  Dame, 
Li  which  the  Duke  (who,  bless  his  Highness ! 

Had  by  his  hill  acquir'd  such  fame, 
'Twas  hop'd  that  he  as  little  shyness 

Would  show,  when  to  the  point  he  came,) 
Should,  for  his  deeds  so  lion-hearted. 
Be  christen'd  Hero,  ere  he  started; 
With  power,  by  Royal  Ordonnance, 
To  bear  that  name  —  at  least  in  France. 
Himself — the  Viscount  Chateaubriand  — 
(To  help  th'  aflair  with  more  esprit  on) 
Offering,  for  this  baptismal  rite. 

Some  of  his  own  fam'd  Jordan  water  —  * 
(Marie  Louise  not  having  quite 

Used  all  that,  for  young  Nap,  he  brought  her,) 
The  baptism,  in  this  case,  to  be 
Applied  to  that  extremity, 


*  r.rought  from  the  river  Jordan  by  M.  Chateaubriand,  and 
presented  to  the  French  Empress  for  the  christening  of  young 
Napoleon. 


FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLY    ALLIANCE.  415 

Which  Bourbon  heroes  most  expose ; 

And  which  (as  well  all  Europe  knows) 

Happens  to  be,  in  this  Defender 

Of  the  true  Faith,  extremely  tender.*  * 

Or  if  (the  Viscount  said)  this  scheme 
Too  rash  and  premature  sliould  seem  — 
If  thus  discounting  heroes,  on  tick  — 

This  glory,  by  anticipation. 
Was  too  much  in  the  genre  romantique 

For  such  a  highly  classic  nation, 
He  begg'd  to  say,  the  Abyssinians 
A  practice  had  in  their  dominions, 
Which,  if  at  Paris  got  up  well, 
In  full  costume,  was  sure  to  tell. 
At  all  great  epochs,  good  or  ill, 

They  have,  says   Bruce  (and   Bruce   ne'er 
budges 
From  the  strict  truth),  a  Grand  Quadrille 

In  pubhc  danc'd  by  the  Twelve  Judges  —  f 
And,  he  assures  us,  the  grimaces, 
The  entre-chats,  the  airs  and  graces 
Of  dancers,  so  profound  and  stately, 
Divert  the  Abyssinians  greatly. 


*  See  the  Duke's  celebrated  letter  to  madame,  written  during 
his  campaign  in  1815,  in  which  he  says,  '•  J'ai  le  posterieur  1^- 
gerement  endommagt?." 

t  "  On  certain  great  occasions,  the  twelve  Judges  (who  are 
generally  between  sixty  and  seventy  years  of  age)  sing  the  song 
and  dance  the  figure-dance,"  etc.  —  Book  v. 


41 G  FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLY   ALLIANCE. 

"  Now  (.*<aiJ  the  Viscount),  there 's  but  few 
"  Great  Empires,  where  this  plan  would  do : 
"  For  instance,  England ;  —  let  theiu  take 

"  What    pains    they  would  —  't  were    vain    to 
strive  — 
"  The  twelve  stiff  Judges  there  would  make 

"  The  worst  Quadrille-set  now  alive. 
"  One  must  have  seen  them,  ere  one  could 
"Imagine  properly  Judge  Wood, 
"  Performing,  in  his  wig,  so  gaily, 
"A  queue-de-chat  with  Justice  Bailey! 
"  French  Judges,  though,  are,  by  no  means, 
'•  Tliis  sort  of  stiff,  be-wigg'd  machines  ; 
"  And  we,  who  've  seen  them  at  Saumur, 
"  And  Poitiers  lately,  may  be  sure 
"They'd  dance  quadrilles,  or  any  thing, 
"  That  would  be  ])lcasing  to  the  King  — 
"Nay,  stand  upon  their  heads,  and  more  do, 
"To  please  the  little  Duke  de  Bordeaux!" 

After  these  several  schemes  there  came 
Some  others  —  needless  now  to  name. 
Since  that,  which  Monsieur  plann'd,  himself, 
Soon  doom'd  all  others  to  the  shelf, 
And  was  receiv'd  par  acclamation, 
As  truly  worthy  the  Grande  Nation. 

It  seems  (as  iNIonsieur  told  the  story) 
That  Louis  the  Fourteentli,  —  that  glory, 


FABLES   FOR   THE   HOLT   ALLIANCE.  417 

That  Coryphee  of  all  crown'd  pates,  — 

That  pink  of  the  Legitimates  — 

Had,  when,  with  many  a  pious  pray'r,  he 

Bequeath'd  unto  the  Virgin  Mary 

His  marriage  deeds,  and  cordon  hieu,* 

Bequeath'd  to  her  his  State  Wig  too  — 

(An  offering  which,  at  Court,  'tis  thought, 

The  Virgin  values  as  she  ought)  — 

That  "Wig,  the  wonder  of  all  eyes, 

The  Cynosure  of  Gallia's  skies, 

To  watch  and  tend  Avhose  curls  ador'd, 

Re-build  its  towering  roof,  when  flat, 
And  round  its  rumpled  base,  a  Board 

Of  sixty  Barbers  daily  sat,t  . 
With  Subs,  on  State-Days,  to  assist. 
Well  pension'd  from  the  Civil  List :  — 
That  wondrous  Wig,  array'd  in  which. 
And  form'd  alike  to  awe  or  witch, 


*  "Louis  XIV.  fit  present  &,  la  Vierge  de  son  cordon  bleu,  que 
Ton  conserve  soigneusement,  et  lui  envoya  ensuite,  son  Contrat 
de  Mariage  et  le  Traite  des  Pifrenees,  magnifiquement  reli^."  — 
Memoires,  Anecdotes  pour  servir,  etc. 

t  The  learned  author  of  Eecherches  Historiques  sur  les  Perru- 
ques,  says  that  the  Board  consisted  but  of  Forty  —  the  same 
number  as  the  Academy.  "Le  plus  beau  terns  des  perruques 
fut  celui  ou  Louis  XIV.  commen9a  k  porter,  lui-meme,  perruque; 

On  ignore  I'^poque  oil  se  fit  cette  revolution;  mais  on 

salt  qu'elle  engagea  Louis  le  Grand  a  y  donner  ses  soins  pater- 
nels,  en  errant,  en  1656,  quarante  charges  de  perruquiers,  sui\'ant 
la  cour;  et  en  1673,  il  forma  un  corps  de  deux  cents  perruquiers 
pour  la  Ville  de  Paris."  — P.  111. 

VOL.  n.  27 


418  FABLES   FOR   THE   HOLY   ALLIANCE. 

He  beat  all  other  heirs  of  ci'owns, 
In  taking  mistresses  and  towns, 
Kequiring  but  a  shot  at  one, 
A  smile  at  t'other,  and  'twas  done!  — 

"  That  Wig  (said  Monsieur,  while  his  brow 
Rose  proudly,)  "  is  existing  now  ;  — 
"  That  Grand  Perruque,  amid  the  fall 

"  Of  every  other  Royal  glory, 
"  With  curls  erect  survives  them  all, 

"  And  tells  in  every  hair  their  story. 
"  Think,  think,  how  welcome  at  this  time 
"  A  relic,  so  bclov'd,  sublime  ! 
"  What  worthier  standard  of  the  Cause 

"  Of  Kingly  Hight  can  France  demand  ? 
*•  Or  who  among  our  ranks  can  pause 

"  To  guard  it,  while  a  curl  shall  stand  ? 
"  Behold,  my  friends  —  (while  thus  he  cried, 
A  curtain,  which  conceal'd  this  pride 
Of  Princely  Wigs  was  drawn  aside) 
"  Behold  that  grand  Perruque  —  how  big 

"  With  recollections  for  the  world  — 
"  For  France  —  for  us  —  Great  Louis'  Wig 

"  By  IIiPPOLYTE  *  new  frizz'd  and  curl'd  — 
^^  New  frizz  d!  alas,  'tis  but  too  true, 
"  Well  may  you  start  at  that  word  new  — 
"  But  such  the  sacrifice,  my  friends, 
"  Til'  Imperial  Cossack  recommends  ; 

•  A  celebrated  Coiffeur  of  the  present  cl;)y. 


FABLES    FOR    THE    HOLY    ALLIANCE.  419 

"  Thinking  such  small  concessions  sage, 

"  To  meet  the  spirit  of  the  age, 

"  And  do  what  best  that  spirit  flatters, 

"In  Wigs  —  if  not  in  weightier  matters. 

"  "V^^lerefore,  to  please  the  Czar,  and  show 

"  That  we-  too,  much-wrong'd  Bourbons,  know 

"  "What  liberalism  in  Monarchs  is, 

"  We  have  conceded  the  New  Friz ! 

"  Thus  arm'd,  ye  gallant  Ultras,  say, 

"  Can  men,  can  Frenchmen,  fear  the  fray  ? 

"  With  this  proud  relic  in  our  van, 

"And  D'AxGODLEME  our  worthy  leader, 
"  Let  rebel  Spain  do  all  she  can, 

"  Let  recreant  England  arm  and  feed  her,  — 
"  Urg'd  by  that  pupil  of  Hunt's  school, 
"That  radical,  Lord  Liverpool  — 
"  France  can  have  nought  to  fear  —  far  from  it  — 

"  When  once  astounded  Europe  sees 
"  The  Wig  of  Louis,  like  a  Comet, 

"  Streaming  above  the  Pyrenees, 
"All's  o'er  with  Spain  —  then  on,  my  sons, 

"  On,  my  incomparable  Duke, 
"And,  shouting  for  the -Holy  Ones, 

"  Cry  Vive  la  Guerre  —  et  la  Perruque  !  " 


END  of  vol.  II. 


y 


